Kassan Must Die
by Kovukono
Summary: Sequel to Heist. A new gang is together, and this time, they're out to take down a king. Someone or something lurks behind them, however, waiting for the perfect moment to take revenge . . .
1. Father

Kassan Must Die

All characters belong to me and are not to be used without my permission. Also, I'd appreciate it if the one person that voted for this story PMed me.

oOo

Kassan Must Die

oOo

Father

Hanra laughed with glee as he counted the little cheetah cubs in front of him, all of their bodies limp. "Twelve, thirteen, _fourteen_ little cubbies!" He looked up at his smiling partners, one a hyena like him, the other a lion. "I expect some cheetahs are going to be _very_ unhappy tomorrow."

The lion, Nuj, was smiling as well. "Isn't it a crying shame?"

The other hyena, Plik, laughed stupidly. He was just barely smart enough to walk and talk at the same time, and even messed that up sometimes. "Poor little cheetahs," he said stupidly. "Dead, dead, dead!"

"Oh, I just wish I could hear those mothers wailing in the morning," said Nuj, barely able to keep from laughing with mirth at the thought. He saw a shadow suddenly appear across Hanra's back and all happiness disappeared from his face. "Uh, Hanra? I think you should turn around niiiiice and slow and see what's right behind you on that hill."

Hanra turned around, completely ignoring the nice and slow part. There, on the hill overlooking them, was the silhouette of a feline creature, the moon framing him perfectly. Then suddenly, the Shadow disappeared. "Nuj, take Plik and check it out."

"Course." Nuj disappeared into the grass with Plik following behind him, Nuj's claws sliding out. They really didn't need this. It may have just been someone in the wrong place at the wrong time, or it could be someone spying on them. Either way, innocent or not, they had to die. Hanra felt shame about that. There was no need for non-cheetahs to die.

Then, suddenly, he heard Plik's laugh, cut short suddenly that sounded very much like someone having their throat slashed. He heard Nuj's shout of "Plik? Plik!" Hanra felt his claws dig into the ground. He was scared. He wasn't a fighter, despite what the little pile of lifeless forms behind him said. He was a coward. And he was scared. He slowly began to turn around, looking around the clearing he was in for anything that was coming for him. A flock of birds suddenly rose into the sky, Hanra turning to them. He heard a grunt from Nuj, then a sudden scream, cut off by a long, throaty, gasping sound.

"Nuj?"

Nuj's body was propelled into the clearing. He had a slash across his face, and, from the bite marks in his throat, was quite obviously dead. Hanra began turning again, very, _very_ scared. His heart beat in his chest. Every sound of the world seemed amplified. His breath came in short spurts. He didn't want to die.

A paw suddenly wrapped around him from behind, the Shadow pulling Hanra close by his neck. Hanra gasped. "Taka," the Shadow whispered. He drew his claws swiftly across Hanra's throat and let him fall to the ground, dead.

The Shadow stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily, before his eyes settled on the cubs. It was even worse than he'd thought. The cubnappers hadn't even had the decency to kill them quickly. They had played with them, torturing them. He lowered his eyes to the ground, feeling them fill with tears. It wasn't right. None of them needed to die.

A rustle in the grass was heard. The Shadow looked up suddenly. A cheetah cub stepped into the clearing. He was small, obviously scared. He looked up at the Shadow and gasped with fear. The Shadow looked at him with pity. "It's alright. Come here." He held up a foreleg in acceptance. The cub stepped toward him hesitantly, then, reassured by the Shadow's smile, he walked over to him, weeping.

"They were my sisters," he cried.

"I know," said the Shadow sadly. "I know."

The two of them wept, the cub crying himself to sleep. He woke up slowly the next morning. The first thing he noticed was that the cubs were gone, and in their place were fourteen small markers. Then, suddenly, his eyes flicked to where the grass was rustling. A black tail was leaving the clearing. The Shadow was gone.

oOo

Makini yawned. He'd changed since he'd left the Pridelands, the only physical changes being the dozens of small scars one got as a rogue. But in his head, he'd realized the world wasn't as good of a place as he'd thought it to be. He so many animals were hurt, for no reason. He'd vowed to do something. He had done _some_ things. But the world was a big place.

Mataka stepped into the clearing with a carcass. He dropped it on the ground by Makini, just far enough away for him to have to get up for it. It was his little incentive. Mataka let out a huge yawn. "What a night. You should have been there. Couple of us almost got killed."

Makini smiled. "I thought you said that it was just negotiating for the job."

"Touchy negotiations." Mataka took a bite out of the carcass and swallowed. "Why didn't you come again?"

"Had a late night. You know, other plans."

Mataka grinned with a personal joke. "Was there any loss of life or damage to property?"

"Define life."

Mataka laughed. "Alright, fine, how about loss of innocence?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"So, what was she like and can I expect to meet her any time soon?"

"Who said I was talking about a she?"

"Okay, I'm just gonna let that drop."

Makini smiled, knowing how his statement would disturb Mataka. "I was talking about a cub."

Mataka looked at him in disgust. "Too much information." He shook his head, trying to get rid of the disturbing images. "Anyway, I found your hero. He's here."

Makini looked up from the carcass he'd just walked over to happily. "Nasiha's here?"

"No, Gimpy."

Makini groaned. "I—do—not—gimp."

"Okay, it's gotten a lot better. But you do limp. Just a little. So until that's gone, 'Gimpy.'"

"Who _is_ here?"

"Kass."

Makini looked up from his bite in surprise. "Eezeer?"

"Okay, I discovered a long time ago that it helps if you chew, swallow, and then talk."

Makini chewed, swallowed, and talked. "He's here?"

"Yes, he's here. And last time I checked, the negotiations were still going. We've been at it all night, and they asked me to bring you. Only way I got here."

Makini stood up. "Let's go." They left the carcass almost untouched.

oOo

Janja flicked his tail. He was waiting, as was Zoma. The only difference was that he was patient about it, and on his stomach. "I told you we shouldn't have let him go," said Zoma. "You know that Mataka will take his sweet time getting back."

"I trust Mataka. As do you."

"Yeah, but does Mataka trust us?"

"Most likely."

"Most likely what? I mean, that could be yes, or that could be no. I mean, that—"

Mataka emerged into the clearing. "Sorry we took so long. We had to wait a few minutes listening to your wonderful conversation."

"See?" said Zoma. "No trust at all." Makini emerged into the clearing. "Hey there, pretty boy." It was not said affectionately; it was said scornfully. "Took your time getting here, didn't you?"

"I—I'm sorry," said Makini. "I didn't mean to offend anyone."

Zoma flipped over. "Just come when you're called for, Blackie, and there won't be a problem." He walked into the grass. "I'll get Kassan."

Makini turned to Mataka. "'Blackie'? 'Pretty boy'?"

Janja laughed in his low, deep voice. "It is just Zoma's way. I expect it is rather annoying."

"And you are—Janja, right?"

"That is right," said the large cheetah in his slow voice. It was obvious that he respected Makini. Janja respected everyone unless they gave him a reason not to.

Zoma emerged from the grass, a leopard and a lion in tow. Makini drew himself up unconsciously. It wasn't the lion, who, according to Mataka, was Darau, that Makini drew himself up for, or the cheetah Zoma. It was the leopard, Kassan. Kassan carried himself with sleek authority, his perfect body shaming all others there. As soon as he walked in, everyone seemed to take in a gasp of air. A flicker of love crossed Mataka's face. That is, if love is hate-filled and vengeful. Then it was gone. Mataka walked over to him. "I brought him."

"Good," said Kassan.

Mataka lead him over to Makini. "Makini, this is Kassan. Kassan, Makini." He didn't notice Makini's jaw slowly dropping open. "Oh, and Darau, and Zoma," he said, gesturing toward the other two. He looked back at Makini. "Makini?"

Makini was stunned. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Kassan smiled. Makini stared at him in disbelief. "Where the hell have you been?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry?" said Kassan, his brow creasing.

Makini took a step back, staring at the ground. "I can't believe it." He looked back up at Kassan. "You're dead."

"I'm alive. Last time I checked, anyway."

Mataka finally noticed the similarity between the two, and kicked himself for not noticing it before. The same black pelt, the same eyes, the same elegant face, yet subtly different. "Dad?" asked Makini. Kassan didn't say anything, just staring. Makini's eyes slowly filled with realization.

Makini clubbed Kassan across the face.

Kassan took it, barely turning his head with the blow. "You left her!" Makini yelled. "You left Mom, you left me! Why the hell did you have to go and do that?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Kassan quietly.

"Like hell! You left us! Do you even know that Mom is dead?! You could have saved her!"

"Makini, I think you don't know what you're—"

Makini hit Kassan across the face again, not bothering to keep in his claws. "You left me! Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?! You said you loved me! You said you loved your son more than anything! How could you lie to me like that?!" Makini stopped, his chest heaving with emotion. "I need to think. I need to think someplace quiet." He disappeared into the grass.

All of them looked at Kassan. Kassan stared where Makini had gone for a moment, then looked at Mataka. "Uh, I'm gonna go talk to him," said Mataka. He disappeared into the grass. He followed a straight line, finally coming up behind Makini at a waterhole. Makini was simply staring at the water. "Is this a bad time?"

Makini turned to look at Mataka. "Yes. This is a very bad time. Come here." Mataka walked and sat next to him, staring into the water as well. He couldn't imagine how much of a shock it was.

"Want to talk about it?" he finally asked.

It was all Makini had been waiting for. "How could he have done that? How the _hell_ could have he just gone and done that?"

Mataka thought it over. "I really don't know. Do you?"

"Don't be stupid, Mataka. I know how he did it. But why? WHY, DAMN IT, WHY?!"

"How did he do it?" Mataka finally asked quietly.

Makini laughed bitterly. "It wasn't anything special." He turned to look Mataka straight in the face. "All we ever found of my father was a piece of his fur, on top of a skinned carcass. I didn't even notice that the head, legs and tail were gone, and everything was the wrong proportions. I was just a cub. But you look the bastard over; you'll find a bald spot. But, no, I was sure he was dead. I loved my father so much I didn't eat for two days. I couldn't." He took in a long, shuddering breath and looked back down at the water. "I didn't want to believe Sudi. He told me about Kassan's stupid impulses. Do you have any idea what I am to him?" He didn't bother to let Mataka respond. "I'm just some quick fix for him, some poor cub that got stuck with that bastard for a father. He doesn't love me. He never loved me. And he never loved my mother. All he did was sleep with her, get her nice and pregnant, stayed a little, and then left. Gods, I hate him. Just imagine how many others there are like me."

"Are you sure he's your father? There are a lot of leopards."

Makini turned to Mataka to stare at him again. "There was no one I idolized more than my father. I loved him completely. And—and he said he loved me. I loved him so much, Mataka. I know every bit of fur on his entire body; I have it etched in my head. It was all I had to remember him by. And now . . . now I find out that he's been doing _this_." Makini stared back down at the water, his eyes adding a little to the pool. "You have no idea how much it hurts."

There was a long pause. "Is there anything I can do?" Mataka asked gently.

"No. I just want to see Nasiha again. I just want to go home. Now. I just need to know there's something that son of a bitch hasn't ruined completely."

Mataka nodded. "Alright. As soon as we can. As soon as we're done here. I promise."

oOo

Mataka walked back to the group. They were talking about the job. It was a standard job, the kind that they usually were asked to do: kill someone. But just because it was a usual job didn't make it easy. Mataka remembered a time he had been on a job for a whole month to overthrow a little kingdom. He had nearly left the job several times through impatience. Hopefully this one wouldn't take so long. Besides, there were some of the best rogues here. The job would be taken care of quickly and efficiently. If they came up with a plan.

The conversation stopped as Mataka walked into the clearing, all of them looking up at him. "What?" he asked.

"Well?" asked Kassan. "How is he?"

"Understandably pissed. Roll over."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Roll over. Onto your back."

"Why?"

"Just to see something." Kassan did so slowly, staring at Mataka in confusion. Mataka looked over his stomach. There was no fur missing. "Well, it could have grown back," he mused.

"What could have?"

"Fur."

"Yes, Mataka, fur can grow back. Now that you've learned that wonderful life lesson, may I please turn back over?"

"Sure."

Kassan turned over. "Will he be alright?"

"Oh, he's just got this huge load of mental baggage. He'll be fine."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yeah." Mataka lied down. "He'll pull through."

"Will he be fine for the job, I mean."

All heads snapped to Kassan. Mataka couldn't believe the callousness of the statement. "He's your son, and you're worried if he'll be ready to do a job? He's just had you shatter your entire figure. You were a god to him, Kass."

"He—is—not—my—son."

"And how would you know? You've mated with just about every animal on the planet, Kass. I can't even begin to imagine how many animals you've made pregnant."

"He isn't my son. I may be love-happy—" Mataka made a noise of disgust—"but that doesn't mean I'm a horrible animal. If I did find someone to settle down with, I wouldn't leave them. If I felt strongly enough about an animal to stay, I wouldn't just leave."

"Oh, so it's okay to leave dozens of cubs without a father, but not to leave someone if _you_ feel like it? Plenty of those animals thought you would stay, Kass."

"Now is _not_ the time to discuss my habits, Mataka. We—"

"Now is a perfect time."

"We can discuss this _alone_," said Kassan, glaring angrily. There was a bitter silence, the other animals staring at Kassan and Mataka.

"I think we should just let it drop for now," said Janja. "Don't you agree, Darau?"

"Oh, definitely," said Darau. "Just leave it for later. We _are_ on a bit of a schedule."

"Schedule?" asked Mataka. "The prince didn't say anything about a schedule. I don't do schedules."

"None of us do schedules," said Zoma. "But apparently the prince's accomplices think that we do. They're getting—what was that phrase he used again?"

"'Rather annoyed,'" said Darau with a smile.

"How much did you guys talk after I left to get Makini?" asked Mataka.

"Oh, not too long," said Janja. "But I think that the prince is frightened of someone."

"He's scared of something?" asked Kassan skeptically. "He didn't show—"

"Kassan, I have told you, you do not look for the right things. You miss details. It is one of the fine distinctions between you and me." Zoma smiled at the statement. He'd learned long ago not to try to match Janja when it came to details.

"Well then, great Janja, what did I miss?"

"The most obvious was how he kept looking at you. He was nervous around you. His tail kept flicking apprehensively; it did not have a smooth pattern. But most importantly was how his voice wavered. Just slightly. He has good control."

"So based on a few twitches, you think that he's scared?"

"Yes."

"Janja, he's planning a revolution. Against his own father," said Darau. "Don't you think that'd be a bit scary? He makes his dad sound like a monster."

"It is possible that I am wrong," said Janja humbly. "But I do not believe so."

"This schedule," interrupted Mataka. "What about it?"

"They want it done within the week," said Zoma. "Or else they'll think that we're just trying to learn more to tip off the king."

"It's a _revolution_," said Mataka. "You don't start those overnight."

"The prince did say he'd try to talk them out of it," said Kassan.

"Great. Just great. Do we know who the mysterious _they_ are?"

"Nope," said Zoma.

"I believe they are hyenas," said Janja. Everyone stared at him.

"Care to explain?" asked Darau.

"He often had a note of derision when speaking about them. Royals do not like hyenas." There was silence. Janja smiled. "Would you like to put my dinner up for a bet?"

"Why not?" asked Darau.

"Very well. I would prefer gazelle."

"Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

"Not at all."

"Where's Aisha?" interrupted Mataka.

"She's still on guard duty," said Zoma. He stretched his body. "Want me to go replace her?" he asked Mataka with a grin.

"_No_."

"I'm sure she'd like to be with you."

"So do I. Now what's the plan?"

"Well, so far we just know that we're supposed to wait until sunset," said Darau. "Then we meet the prince again. He just gave us a time and a place. Said it came from _them_."

"Oh, goodie." The animals looked at each other.

"Well, I guess we'll just meet back here near sunset," said Kassan.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good."

The group disbanded, Zoma with Janja, the rest of them going off on their own, Darau being the only one who remembered to tell Aisha she could stop standing watch.

oOo

Six Months Earlier

Moyo sighed. He looked around Sheria. It was his home. His lands. Or rather, his father's lands. Prince of Sheria. And possibly the most miserable animal in the lands. He didn't walk as a prince should, with his head back and his body proud. He stood with his head hung in defeat. His whole life was a defeat. He may have been prince, but there was nothing that he could do in the kingdom to make a difference. His father ruled, not him. He was royalty only in title, a living disappointment to his father. He was expected to be strong, powerful, a firm leader, at least by his father's standards. But Moyo didn't have the heart to rule as he did. Such harsh punishments, such ruthless enforcement of the laws. Moyo was expected to live up to his father's expectations: to rule with nothing else in mind.

But he couldn't.

He wanted to make a difference, he wanted to rule, but not with the harsh, unforgiving rule his father imposed. His father loved justice, lived by justice, swore by justice. Moyo just wanted him to be fair. "But I am fair, Son," he had said. "I rule by being fair."

"But what about mercy?" Moyo had asked. "Doesn't a kingdom need that?"

"Moyo, there are laws for a reason. They are not simple rules. They must not be bent or broken. They are justice."

"But Father—"

"Son, I have explained this to you many times, yet you still believe there is a demand for mercy. The unjust will receive their punishment, and no less. Why do you want differently?"

Moyo had bit his lip and looked away, finally leaving the den, looking back to see the king shaking his head, his great, proud, red mane waving with it. Moyo couldn't stand up to him. He couldn't tell him that he wanted him to show mercy for the one animal that he still had in the world that he considered family: his sister.

She would have been beautiful, Moyo was sure, if it hadn't been for her malady. For the lack of intelligence she possessed. The lionesses accepted her, but grudgingly. Moyo loved her, knowing she couldn't help how she acted, how she spoke. It was something that had been there since birth, and wouldn't go away any time soon. He spent hours with her, making her squeal in delight, telling her the simple stories that she would understand, feeling her gratitude.

But he did nothing when his father hit her for her incompetence, for her utter lack of usefulness. She didn't deserve to be treated that way, just for her stupidity. Just because she lacked intelligence didn't mean that she should be the one that the king's anger landed on. He was his daughter of all things, the princess.

Moyo would go to her after his father had beaten her and would take her to the secluded waterhole, where he would treat her wounds, washing the blood off if it had been drawn, applying the soothing plants to where she had been hit. And he would make her laugh, make her smile, and she would say that she loved him in her small, childish voice: "I love Moyo."

There were times like this where he had to be alone. Times where he couldn't take the stress that he lived under, the stress of being a failure to his father, of being the one who was responsible for his mother's death in childbirth; the stress of loving his sister unconditionally, of taking care of her no matter what she did; the stress of having so many emotions pent up inside of him, the rage which he would never use, the sorrow which continually haunted him, the disappointment that his father projected from himself onto Moyo. Moyo couldn't take it all. There were times like these where he _had_ to be alone, or else he felt he would burst, times where he would go out into the savannah and have a good, long cry, half wishing that someone would find him and share his sorrow, the other half wanting to be alone with his agony.

He was walking back to the den. His eyes still showed the signs of his weeping, being red-rimmed, slightly bloodshot from the long hours he spent awake, staring at the ceiling of the den, trying to find some way to make life better, hearing his sister's breathing next to him. He didn't want to go back to all of that. He felt as if his life was a nightmare from which he couldn't escape, something he'd never wake up from.

"You're alone," said a voice. He kept walking, smiling grimly. Now he was talking to himself. Yes, he was alone. Completely alone, in every sense of the term.

"I want to help you." Yes, that'd be nice. A chance to escape from life. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought of suicide. But he couldn't leave his sister. She needed him so much.

"Why do you keep walking?" _Why do I?_ he thought bitterly. I'm going back to something I can never change, something that will never change.

"Can't you hear me?" Moyo smiled bitterly. Yes, he could hear the voice. After all, he was talking back, wasn't he?

"We can help each other. You're taking that opportunity away with each step you take." Moyo looked up, stopping. The savannah was clear, the night sky overhead just as clear as the savannah, the stars winking down at him from a moonless sky.

"Is someone there?" he asked.

There was a slight chuckle of laughter. "Yes. I am here." Moyo looked around. He could see no one.

"I'm talking to myself," he muttered.

"No. You're talking to me. And I want to help you. I'm real."

"Then why can't I see you?" demanded Moyo.

"I hide very, very well."

"Show yourself!"

There was a pause. "Well, I suppose there must be some trust involved. To your left." Moyo turned to see a pair of eyes glinting in the light. "Yes. That's me."

"What do you want?"

"I said I want to help you. I've watched you so long. I'd dare say you're in just as much agony as me."

"You've—watched me?"

"Yes. And I admire you. You're selfless. I can help you get what you want. A chance to rule. A chance to change things. I can help you get rid of your father—"

"I don't want to _kill_ him. I just—I want to make him see things—my way."

A pause. "I imagine that that is possible. Removing him from the throne, and not killing him. But you would need allies. You can't do this by yourself."

"Allies? Who?"

"Others that are downtrodden like yourself. You already have me by your side. I can help you. I can get you aid from outside the kingdom."

"Why?"

"I truly do want to ease your suffering. But I want to be honest with you, too. I think you can help me. You may not want someone dead, but I do. A filthy rogue."

"Who?"

"His name is Kassan. And he took everything from me. He threw my whole life away with a job he accepted. There is _nothing_ more that I want than to see him dead at my paws." The animal spoke with vibrant passion.

"You—you want me to kill him?"

"No. But I can kill two gazelles with one leap. I can bring him here, and I will make sure that you are lifted up to the throne. The only price for my services is this: Kassan must die."

Moyo hesitated. He was being involved with _murder_ if he did this. But the animal was so sincere, so eager to help him. He, too, suffered. They could help each other. They would help each other. "Alright," said Moyo. "Tell me what to do."

oOo

Makini walked through the grass, reflecting on how conspicuously he stood out. A dot of black on a sea of gold. The grass was high enough around him to camouflage his stealthy movement from other land-based animals, but birds would pick him off far too easily. It was no wonder he preferred night work.

He had gotten over most of the emotion that he had felt from the shock of discovering who his father was. He no longer needed to cry. It still hurt, though. He knew the hurt would never go away. He would be unable to forget how his father had told him he loved him, then snuck away. But Makini would cope with it. He still loved Kassan, however forced it might be. He was, after all, his father.

Makini walked into the clearing that Mataka had told him to go to. It was near sunset. The animals should be coming back at any time. But so far, there was only Mataka in the clearing, alone with a lioness. Most lions would have relished being with a lioness that was that beautiful. Makini smiled. He knew how Mataka hated it.

"Oh, look who it is," said Mataka in the voice of an animal that was just looking for a change of subject. "Aisha, this is Makini. Makini, this is the devil."

Makini looked over Aisha. It was the first time he had actually seen her. She wasn't the prettiest lioness, but she was close. Her lithe figure was padded with sinewy muscle. She had a smile on her face. Makini remembered all the things that Mataka had said about her. How she was annoying as hell, twice as ugly as she was annoying, and an idiot who couldn't do anything without being told fourteen times. He could see that it obviously was not true. He stopped, staring at her. Her smile seemed to hit him with—something.

She amiably pushed Mataka. "Like hell," she said in a beautiful, ringing voice.

"Exactly," agreed Mataka. "You're just like hell."

Aisha cuffed Mataka on the shoulder. "Don't make me show you just how much like hell I can be." She turned to look at Makini, studying him. "And you're telling me you never saw any of Kass in him?"

"Well . . ."

"I mean, it's bad enough that you didn't notice the recessive pelt, but the eyes, and the height, and the ears—"

"Alright! Enough!" yelled Mataka.

Aisha laughed. She glanced over at Makini. "See, this is why he hates me. All because he can annoy anyone, but I can annoy him."

"It's a dirty, filthy lie, Makini. Don't believe a word of it."

"Dirty, filthy lie indeed."

"Mataka," said Makini, "where are the others? They should have been here by now. What if they—"

"Makini," said Aisha, "chillax. There's no point in getting worked up about anything." She lied down on the ground again, her lazy attitude showing through.

"But—"

"You're at an eleven. I need you at about a five." Aisha smiled. "Seriously, there's nothing to worry about. The rogues here are some of the best."

"Now this is one of the few times she's right," said Mataka. He shied away from a halfhearted swipe from Aisha.

"But doesn't it make you wonder how the prince got all of us here in the same place?" asked Makini.

"Not really," said Aisha.

"Do you even bother to wonder about anything?" asked Mataka. The halfhearted swipe didn't miss that time. "Ouch!"

"Plenty of things. Such as what made you so reluctant to be with me all of a sudden."

"I've never liked you."

"That's not what you said when I got you alone at night." Aisha smiled evilly. "Wouldn't you love to just do that again? I would."

"No. That is a final, flat no."

"And you still won't tell me why not," she mock-pouted.

"You want fun, go to Darau."

"That's no answer."

"No, it isn't."

"Come on, Mataka. You didn't use to care. Why now?"

"That's my own reason."

"Mataka," interrupted Makini, "don't you think it'd be best to just get her off your back once and for all? Tell her everything?"

"And never get a moment's peace? I don't think so."

"Mataka," said Aisha, "if it's any consolation, you're sure as hell not going to get any peace now."

"What a wonderful thing to know," grumbled Mataka.

Aisha got up and lied down next to him, leaning into him. "So what is it?"

"What's what?"

"Oh, come on, Mataka. You know what. You used to have plenty of fun. I'm almost surprised it was you chewing out Kass."

"How caustic can you get? Makini's right there."

"Oh, no, I'm enjoying this," said Makini with a smile.

Mataka shook his head. "Great. Now I've got you enjoying yourself at my expense, too. Wonderful."

"We wouldn't be doing this if you'd just tell me," said Aisha sweetly. Mataka mumbled something. "What was that?"

"I said you'd give me even more hell."

"Oh, then it _has_ to be good."

Mataka was silent, obviously arguing with himself. "You can't tell anyone," he finally said quietly.

"Maybe," taunted Aisha.

"I mean this, Aisha. No one."

"Fine," she sighed. "I promise."

"I've got a mate."

"What?" Aisha's head perked up. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"I have a mate. So I'm not going to be any fun for you anymore."

"Mataka . . . well, I wasn't expecting this." She shrugged and rolled onto her back. "Oh, well."

"'Oh well?!'" burst out Mataka. "I just told you that, and you just tell me 'oh well?!'"

"Well, it explains why you were so ticked at Kassan today."

"You're not going to chew me out? Not even poke me here and there?"

"Nope. I understand."

"You do?" asked Makini and Mataka simultaneously.

"Yes," said Aisha, feigning offense. "What do you think I am, heartless? I've had parents, I know what marriage is like. If you want to be loyal to this lioness—fictional or real—"

"Hey!"

"—then you should do it. One of these days I'm going to get stuck with a litter and that'll put me out of the game. Whereupon I will be looking for a home, as there are at least twenty kingdoms that want my head—yours, too, Mataka—"

"More than that."

"And when I'm forced to settle down, I just hope that I actually have someone there to care for me. You're actually a pretty sweet guy, Mataka."

"Thanks."

"So I'm guessing you just got her pregnant and felt guilty?"

"And now you sink in the claws," Mataka muttered. "No, I met her long before I got her pregnant."

"So you _do_ have a cub. Oh, Kass is going to raise hell over this."

"Not if Kass doesn't know. And we aren't going to tell anyone, are we?"

"Oh, Kass would _freak_. You know how he hates to have animals that can have things hung over their heads working with him."

"And there are very few animals that even know about either of them."

"That know about who?" The three of them turned to see Janja and Zoma walking toward them.

"About no one," said Mataka hurriedly.

"Sure doesn't sound like—" began Zoma.

"Zoma," said Janja curtly. "Respect privacy."

"Yes, Janja," said the smaller cheetah subserviently.

"Whose privacy?" The group turned to see Kassan sitting, simply as if he had been there all the time.

"Yours," said Mataka.

"Ha, ha. Where's Darau?"

"He will be here," said Janja. "I believe he is following the prince."

"Yeah, where is the royal, anyway?" asked Zoma, lying down.

"Typical royal, always late," muttered Mataka.

"He has his father watching him," said Makini. "I imagine he's having to work to keep all this secret."

There were some laughs around the group. "Blackie," asked Zoma, "didn't you ever try to sneak out from your parents?"

"I don't know what you mean. You think I'd try to overthrow my aunt from her evil reign of tyranny and oppression?" Mataka noticed how Makini carefully skirted away from the words "father" and "mother."

"Oh, come on, pretty boy. Are you telling me that you've never snuck out to be with some friends, or tried to go meet some leopardess late at night?"

"I never did that. My aunt trusted me. There wasn't too much she didn't allow me to do."

"So you went out and did that stuff with her knowing about it?"

"Um . . . no . . ."

"Have you done _anything_ that was normal?" asked Mataka incredulously. For all the times that the two of them had talked, he couldn't remember this topic ever coming up, for some odd reason.

"Well . . . there was that time that me and Tiifu went and put this load of balba in the cheetah pit."

Mataka threw his head back, roaring with laughter along with Aisha, Janja chuckling. "Balba?" asked Zoma.

"It's itchy root," explained Kassan. He shook his head in amusement.

"Wait, you put itchy root in the cheetah pit? That must have taken a lot of roots. How'd you manage to not get any on yourself?"

Makini looked down, embarrassed. "We did get it on ourselves. Both of us were itching for a whole week after it." Mataka burst into still more laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked a lion, stepping into the group. Makini didn't recognize the prince. Moyo stared at the group.

"Well it about time you got here," said Zoma impatiently.

"Am I really that late?" asked Moyo timidly.

"Not at all," said Janja.

"But you need to learn how to hide better." Darau walked past Moyo, Moyo staring at him in surprise. "You track easier than a bleeding warthog."

"You _followed_ me?" said Moyo. "Don't I get any privacy?"

"It was for your safety, prince," said Darau. "And I think you'll need all the safety you can get. Exiles are not pretty scenes."

"And neither are executions," said Kassan. "So don't make me witness yours."

"I—I don't think my father would do anything _that_ bad—"

"Prince," said Zoma, "if your father found out what you were doing, he'd hang you from a tree and have your stomach slashed open, if he was nice. No king enjoys rebellions, especially from their own son."

Moyo was silent. "Second thoughts?" asked Mataka.

"No."

"Great. Now get us to meet your 'associates,'" said Darau. "The more you move, the safer you feel."

"Alright. Follow me." Moyo led the rogues off toward the meeting.

oOo

The silence among the rogues amazed Moyo as soon as he said that they were getting close. As soon as he spoke the words, immediate silence fell among the group, the conversations that he wasn't involved in being silenced. They had made it obvious to him that he wasn't one of them, and that he wasn't going to be mistaken for one.

As the group got closer to the site, they began to fan out instead of clumping together, Moyo sticking close to another lion. Darau, that was the lion's name. The group came upon a depression in the ground, a basin dipping slightly to go toward a cave that rose up for a small distance in the sky. Where the depression leveled out, there was a hyena standing, looking around the scenery, obviously guarding.

"Shit for sentries," muttered Mataka. "Makini," he hissed.

Makini looked toward Mataka and watched Mataka sweep his foreleg down toward the hyena. Makini nodded and began down toward the hyena, staying low in the grass. The oncoming night hid his normally conspicuous body. He crept low to the ground, going closer to the hyena.

To Moyo, who had been unable to hear anything, it looked as though Makini had simply looked at Mataka without any signal, then immediately began to advance down at the wave of a leg. He marveled at the coordination the rogues possessed. He was amazed still further as he watched Makini take the hyena by surprise. Makini waited until the hyena had his head turned to the side. He rushed the hyena, pushing his head further toward the way it was turned as he reached a foreleg toward the animal's throat, all in one fluid motion. Makini wrapped the leg around the hyena's throat and pulled it close to his body.

"Move and you're dead," he whispered. The hyena immediately stiffened. "Good boy. Walk with me." Makini began to drag it back with him to where the grass started, finally being camouflaged by the grass. The hyena was still silent and still, kept so by fear. He turned his head slightly to see the other rogues come toward him in the grass.

Janja put his head close to the hyena, being careful to show all of his massive jaws as he spoke. "Who are you guarding?"

"Ka—Katili. Please, don't kill me. I don't know anything," the hyena begged.

"What is in that cave?"

"Just more hyenas. Nothing going on in there, really. Don't bother yourself."

"How many hyenas?"

"Uh, not too many. Twenty? Yeah, twenty's good."

Janja smiled with the rest of them. The hyena was telling them more than he knew. "Now you are to answer this honestly, or I _will_ kill you. Were you expecting anyone?"

The hyena paused, obviously not knowing what to say. "Yes," he finally whispered.

"Rogues?"

". . . Yes."

Janja leaned back. "Good. Take us inside."

"But—but they'll kill me if they see you with me."

The hyena obviously hadn't been put on guard duty for his brains. He should have figured out who they were long ago. "We're the rogues you're looking for," said Makini, releasing the hyena.

"You—what—"

"Well, come on," said Mataka. "Get us inside. Our time may not be important, but what about the prince's?"

The hyena turned to look at Moyo, seeing him properly for the first time. "Sire?" The hyena drew himself up, and began to lead them toward the cave. He seemed to take a few seconds to realize what was going on completely before saying "Right this way" in a much more arrogant voice than the one that had been shaking with fear moments ago. Zoma snickered derisively as the hyena strutted back to the cave. They were all thinking what he was. _Such a fool_.

The rogues followed the hyena toward the cave, several other hyenas running to intercept the rogues. "Don't worry, guys, _I've_ got this," said the hyena that was leading them cockily.

"These are all the guards you have?" asked Kassan as they continued on their way.

"Uh, well, you see . . . we don't exactly have the number to sustain what you would probably consider a maximum guard," said the hyena, his cockiness faltering for a moment.

The others looked at each other. There was no problem with having too few guards right now. The problem was that there was too many. The chances of any of them being spotted were great. There only needed to be a few guards at precise locations. It was obvious that the hyenas were amateurs.

_Then again_, thought Makini as they walked into the cave, _it isn't like they can't spare some_. The cave was packed with hyenas. The cave might not have had much height, but it was extremely deep. Hyenas were everywhere. On the ledges, on the floor, in recesses in the walls. There was no end to them, it seemed.

Janja nudged Darau in the shoulder with his head. "You can get me the gazelle tomorrow." Zoma snickered appreciatively.

"Shut up, Zoma," muttered Darau.

Makini looked around the dark area. The area was lit only by the last rays of the sun coming in through a hole in the roof. It was going to get dark in here very soon, and the last place any self-respecting rogue wanted to be was in a dark cave with a massive group of animals that could very easily be enemies. A flare caught Makini's attention, and he jumped slightly. He stared in disbelief.

One of the walls was on fire.

No, it wasn't. There was a small pile of sticks in a nook in the wall, and somehow they had been lit on fire. Then another flared up, and a small distance away from the second one, a third. Makini spotted something swishing in the darkness, something that seemed like moving fire. He managed to look right where the next fire flared up by luck. A monkey was hanging on a vine, swinging with a lit branch around the cave, setting fire to piles of sticks and branches that were already in place inside the cave.

"Makini! Come on!" hissed Mataka impatiently. Makini followed hurriedly. He hadn't been through too many jobs. A few over ten, the number varying depending on whether or not you wanted to count an "incident." That time, Makini had begun to realize just how many enemies Mataka had, and how likely it was that he'd fall out of grace with that many animals.

But it wouldn't do to see him lagging behind the others, staring at the pyro-monkey. He had the rogue image to keep up. True, "civilization" was beginning to take hold in some kingdoms; pride leaders were keeping their sons in their pride, and actually naming them heirs. But there were some kingdoms that declared that to be "softness," and would live by the law of the rogue, of having the leader decided by whichever lion moved in and killed the pride leader and kicking out sons when they came of age.

Makini, though not a lion, still depended on the law. All rogues did. If there was a unanimous end put to the exile of males when they reached adolescence, there would be an end put to rogues of every species as well. There were few other species that had actual rogues as lions did, but there were plenty of animals who proudly wore the title of rogue, though a better title might have been mercenary. If lions kept their sons, all rogues would be branded criminals. There would be no more jobs, or at least not on the same scale.

Makini had grown up in a new age kingdom—one that kept its sons—had actually bothered to talk with the shaman about the change. The old mandrill had records that went back much farther than Makini had ever expected to find. The change from "barbarism" as the mandrill put it—the age when rogues were the only thing and when bloodlines were hopelessly mixed—to "civilization"—the abolishment of the rogue system by lions who had grown close with their sons and could not bear to force them to leave, or willingly accepted rogues into their pride—had been going on for hundreds of years, and total change, if it happened at all, would take even longer.

Makini and the others prayed that it would take much, much longer. "Civilization" was sucking all the fun out of life.

Makini and the others were led down a steep slope. None of them liked where they were being taken. A huge pit with extremely thick sides and possible enemies everywhere? No, thank you, I'll take the next home. But this was where they were being taken, and unless the prince was more of an idiot than it seemed, it was a safer place to be than anywhere else in the kingdom. All of them were wondering how he had come up with so many allies.

And if Moyo was wrong, they had the consolation that he would die with them.

A very large hyena looked up as the rogues walked down into the center. She was almost as large as small Zoma. Makini looked up, seeing a picturesque scene of a large, circular cavern, fire staving off darkness in many places. Hyenas lined the walls of the cavern, talking amongst themselves or staring down at the rogues. The hyena that had noticed their approach wandered away from a small group of other hyenas. "Are these the rogues you said would arrive, your highness?" she asked the prince.

"Yes," said Moyo. "I brought them here to—"

"Yes, we know. But before we even begin on the terms of the job, don't you think it would be courteous to offer our good guests food?" The hyena nodded toward the other hyenas she had been with. There were a few legs that were sticking out of the group, legs that had hoofed feet.

Mataka smiled. He knew what was going on. It was standard negotiation procedure. Indulge the negotiator, then hit them with what you want. Of course, just because he knew what was going on didn't mean it didn't work.

"We'd be honored to, ma'am," said Kassan. Mataka felt a twinge of annoyance. Kassan was assuming leadership of the group, as he always did. It was normally the best thing to do, as Kassan was usually the most experienced rogue. But someone had managed to get all of these specific rogues together, all of them well-seasoned and experienced. There was no need for a leader, and no wish for one either, by any of them. A leader would only cripple the operation, not help it. Mataka would have to sort that out with Kassan later.

The hyenas shifted out of the way as the leader motioned them to. Behind them were three carcasses for the rogues. Three carcasses for eight animals, if you included the prince. Fortunately, the prince hung back, Darau and Aisha taking one carcass, Zoma and Janja taking another, and leaving the last one to Kassan, Makini, and Mataka.

All of them had eaten before this, but Mataka wasn't sure about Makini. The poor kid probably hadn't eaten anything since a few mouthfuls at breakfast. Mataka nudged Kassan's head, making him look up, and then nodded toward Makini. Kassan chewed his food for a little longer than normal, staring at Mataka, then seemed to take the hint.

Mataka swallowed and buried his worries in eating. He didn't know what was going to happen with Makini and Kassan once this was over. Makini had been traveling with Mataka ever since his first job. Whether he admitted it too much or not, Mataka enjoyed the company. It would be different for everyone if Makini went with his newfound father. If Kassan actually managed to measure up to be a decent father, that was.

The rogues finished their meal and turned to the group of hyenas. The leader had been talking with the prince in a low voice. She just seemed to be talking about the state of the kingdom. Small talk, if anything. She turned to the rogues as she noticed them finishing. "I assume that I should introduce myself. I am Katili, akida of this clan." She paused, waiting for the rogues to introduce themselves. None of them offered anything. "I—suppose we should come to terms with each other on what we are going to do to achieve our goals."

"Maybe you should just state what you want first," said Aisha, lying down. The rest remained sitting.

"We have been promised a position of power in the kingdom."

There was a moment of silence before Zoma said, "Princey . . ."

"It's true," said Moyo. "I did promise that."

"And in return we will help him overthrow his father," said Katili.

The rogues looked at each other. Alliances between small groups of animals and larger ones never worked out well. The small group, usually in the position of power, would either give the larger group the power and be unable to control the larger group once they were given the power, or they would refuse giving the larger group the power once everything was said and done and would be overthrown by the larger group. Either way, the chances of what was happening here working out smoothly were too small for comfort.

"What kind of power?" asked Darau.

"Freedom to live inside the kingdom, as well as the right to hunt, so long as we behave ourselves and do not over-exercise our rights."

"As well as a voice in the animal council," added Moyo.

"Animal council?" asked Makini.

"It was set up by my grandfather. It's just a group of animals that can talk to the king directly. Give him their advice on issues."

"All of this for a throne?" asked Janja.

"You don't seem to understand the level they're living at," said Moyo. "They have next to no rights at all. I'm just doing the right thing."

"So were the Askari," noted Mataka grimly. Bitter chuckles went around the rogues. The entire group of warriors, all of them trained to kill proficiently, some of them even since birth, had been slaughtered in the Elridge Pass. It had happened years ago, but no one forgot the sacrifice they had made, giving their own lives so that the royal family had time to escape.

The reference was lost on the prince and the hyenas. "We realize there is a degree of trust to be involved," said Katili. "But I would like to think that we are honorable."

"We really don't need to be bothered with the details of what happens afterward," said Kassan. "We were only curious." The prince could save his own skin. "Now the difficult part is how to actually get to the king. After we get there, killing him is only a matter of force."

"He's not to be killed," said Moyo quickly.

"What?"

"I don't want my father killed."

"Kid, let me explain something to you," said Mataka. "If we go in there, teeth bared and claws out, someone is going to die. Kings fight to the death for their throne if they're decent, and from what you've told us, it doesn't sound like he'd run away any time soon. The moment he sees me or Darau, he'll order us both dead, because he'll know we're there for the throne, even if he doesn't know it's for you."

"We don't need to kill him," insisted Moyo. "Just . . . just talk to him. Ask him to step down. If we show we've got more power than he does . . ." There was doubt in the prince's voice.

"Sire," said Janja, "to do what you suggest, we would have to subdue your father. We would need to make sure he is physically incapable of harming anyone. Lionesses would be injured, if not killed, if they truly would die for him. There is no way to simply go to him and negotiate."

"I—I know it'll be harder," said Moyo. "But I can't kill my father. I just can't. That would be . . . awful."

"That's what you brought us here for," said Zoma. "If you really wanted, we could just send Blackie here up to the den," he said, nodding toward Makini. "One quick sneak in, one quick slash on the throat, one quick sneak out, and you all wake up and find him dead."

Moyo looked horrified at the idea. His eyes flicked upward, seemingly toward the hyenas, and he said firmly, "You are not to kill my father."

"Do you really think the den—"

"We don't have a den."

"Fine, the pride," altered Zoma, "would have that much of a problem with seeing him dead? He's a monster, you said it yourself."

"I never said that," said Moyo furiously.

"He sentenced a cheetah, a pregnant one at that, to death! You don't call that a monster?" The hyenas stirred uneasily at the mention of the execution. They had never known _this_.

"The law forbade murder. He only followed the law—"

"But don't you—"

"Zoma, quiet," said Janja.

Zoma sighed. "Yes, Janja," he said submissively.

There was a short silence. "Look," said Makini reasonably, "the reason we're here isn't to discuss whether or not to kill the king, but _how_ to. And the prince," he said to Katili, "says that we also need to know _when_ to."

The hyena's face looked blank. "When?"

"We want it done within the week," said a large hyena. He might have been the dominant male in the clan, but most definitely not the dominant hyena. Katili was larger than any of them, it seemed. Most likely this one was her main mate.

"And that's not possible," growled Kassan.

"How do we know you're not going to expose us to the king?" asked Katili. "How do you know we won't sell us all out, that you're not working for him right now?"

"And how do we know that you don't plan to have us all murdered right here?" asked Darau. "There is no way for us to escape from this pit that you've put us in. There are hyenas everywhere. I'm fairly sure we could all be dead in less than a minute."

"Twenty seconds," stated a hyena in the group behind Katili.

"I'd rather not test that," said Mataka.

"The point," said Janja, "is that there must be trust involved."

"We can't afford to trust you," said the large male again. "You could be plotting to betray us all!"

"And we still could be, right up to the job itself," said Zoma.

"We need this done quickly," said Katili. "I've given you a week, which is far more than my clan has wanted to. If you refuse to accept this, then we'll find a new set of rogues."

"And do what with us?" asked Aisha calmly.

"We will—dispose of you. We have little meat, there's no sense in wasting any."

None of the rogues seemed surprised by this, or too worried, either. Mataka actually sat back with a smile. "So that's it, is it? A week?"

"One week," said Katili.

Mataka nodded as if understanding. "Janja, remember Nyota?"

"The job?" Janja asked. "Or the leopardess?"

"Job."

"I do."

Mataka kept nodding. "How about you, Aisha? Remember Nyota?"

"Mm."

"Zoma?"

"Oh, yeah."

"And the rest of you weren't there, but I'm sure you remember it, right?" The rogues were smiling, some more than others. Darau was actually grinning. "Right?"

"The one with the—the—" said Makini.

"With the ancestral power struggle," said Kassan.

"Yeah. That."

Mataka nodded again and said, "That one. And, my friends, how long did that take?"

There were annoyed sighs before Aisha said, uncharacteristically bitter, "Two months, three weeks, and five flea-bitten days. In the slime. With the horseflies."

"And weren't those horseflies just the worst part of it? That and the smell?" asked Darau with a grin.

"Shut up," growled Zoma, Aisha, and Mataka, while Janja rumbled, "You were not there."

"I still don't feel clean," complained Zoma.

"But what were we there for?"

"To get our butts out of that stupid godforsaken place," muttered Zoma.

"Okay, discounting the little screw-up we had, what were we doing?"

"Starting a revolution," said Janja.

"And that," said Mataka, turning back to the hyenas, "was in a kingdom that was incredibly shaky in the first place. The entire kingdom hated the rulers, and if we did anything, there wouldn't be any spies to report on us. We could have marched right around the den, looking for weak spots, and could have been fine. That job took nearly three months. I don't think we'll have it that easy here."

"If it's going to take you more than three months to do this," said Katili, "then we don't want you. We want this done _now_. We'll find better rogues."

"We're the best," said Kassan coldly. "You aren't going to find any rogues better than we are. We've worked for years at this kind of thing. You have no idea how much effort we have to put into this."

"Then we'll find out and do it ourselves," said Katili. The hyenas seemed very ready to kill the rogues.

"Look, all we're saying is that we need time to do this," said Makini reasonably. "You don't start a rebellion overnight."

"How are we supposed to trust you?" asked Katili. "I am akida of this clan, and I am responsible for the welfare of every hyena in it, from the oldest dog to the youngest pup."

"And doesn't it suck?" asked Mataka, grinning. Darau hit him.

"They need me," said Katili firmly. "I wouldn't expect a rogue to understand that," she said bitingly.

"I'm a prince," said Mataka. "And I got out of the whole thing because I _did_ understand it."

"Mataka, shut up," muttered Darau.

"Just give us the time we need to do our job," said Makini. He seemed to be the voice of reason for the group on both sides. "The prince will get his kingdom, and you'll get your status, and everyone will be happy. But just give us _time_."

Katili frowned for a moment before she turned back to her little council. They talked quietly, so that the rogues couldn't hear. The rogues immediately began looking around. "Anyone see any escape routes?" muttered Zoma.

"Looks like we're just as trapped as we said we were," said Darau, just as quietly. The group continued looking around for any hope of escape. There simply was no way that they could be anywhere without being surrounded by hyenas, all of them loyal to Katili. Moyo was shifting uneasily, even though he was in no apparent danger.

"Alright." All of the rogues turned back to Katili. She said, "You have a week. No more. And there will be no change."

"If it is any consolation, madam," said Janja, "we will do our best to complete the task as quickly as possible."

"We were counting on it," said Katili, her air obviously dismissing the matter, despite the rogues' obvious frustration. "Sire, do you have anything you want to tell them?"

"I—I need to get home," said Moyo, still shifting somewhat. "My father might get suspicious."

"Then get," said Mataka. "Last thing we need is an angry king."

"It would be better if you weren't here for this anyway, sire," said Janja.

"Thank you," said Moyo, bowing his head quickly before turning to leave.

"We'll get you, you don't get us," called Zoma.

"And now for the other parts," said Kassan.

"What else do we have to discuss?" asked Katili. "This job is your responsibility—"

"—and we expect to be able to have your clan at our disposal," said Kassan. "We need all the information we can get about the surrounding area, the locals, everything. And we expect your help in planning."

"We may get to that tomorrow," said Katili. "I need to send out my hunting parties. We are very short on meat. You may rest here tonight. If you don't have any words to share with the clan, I would get some sleep."

"We'd prefer to sleep in our own places," said Darau. "Kind of a safety thing."

"Very well," said Katili. The rogues turned to go.

"You said we could speak?" asked Makini, just a few seconds after the rogues turned to go.

"Yes," said Katili, mildly surprised. "If you have anything to share with the clan about this, we will listen."

"Kid, what do you have to say?" asked Mataka.

"Just let me try," said Makini.

"Very well," said Katili. She turned around and let out an enormous howl. The pit fell silent in seconds. "My clan! Hear me! We will soon be free of the tyranny of this king, and by the paws of these rogues! Listen to them as they speak." She turned to Makini expectantly.

Makini stepped forward hesitantly, away from the rogues, obviously nervous. He said, in a voice that was barely loud enough for all to hear in the silent pit, "I—I'm not used to doing this at all. I've never spoken to anyone like this."

"What is he doing?" Kassan muttered to Mataka.

"I have no idea."

"I—I guess all I wanted to tell you was that I—understand the situation that you're in. Your pain. I know that sounds strange, but I know hyenas. I've worked with them, and . . . well, they've been the most honest animals that I've met so far." The rogues gave small signs of assent. Yes, hyenas always did tell the truth, and nothing but the truth. Just not all of it, and not in quite the way it happened. "I just want to say that I, at least, trust you. I want to help you. That's what we're here to do. Help you.

"I know it sounds a little strange, but I—care for you, I guess is the word. Animals that are kind of just—cast aside, animals that never did get what they deserve. I've already seen what cruelty this kingdom has here. You've been discarded. You've been starved. You've been pushed to the boundaries.

"This is not right.

"And not just you, but others. So many animals in this kingdom, who are just . . . in the most helpless positions . . ." Makini's head bowed to the ground as he muttered again, "It's not right." He looked up. "It's not! I know this! You know this! There are times when you have been trodden upon, but _this is not one!_ I swear to you, I will help you. On my soul, this kingdom will be _free_."

The last word echoed around the den. There was silence at first, then a few howls, and then, suddenly, almost as one, the pit threw its head back and let loose a monstrous howl. Makini stared at the group, unsure of the feelings he felt washing over him. He felt—stronger, just being with them. He almost wanted to howl with the clan.

"Kid, can we go now?" asked Mataka.

"Uh . . . right." Makini hurriedly began to follow the other rogues out of the pit. He finally caught up to Mataka. Mataka kept glancing at Makini as they walked. "What?" Makini finally asked.

"That was . . . good, kid," said Mataka. "It was good."

"Uh . . . thanks," said Makini.

The rogues reached the top of the pit and walked out of the cave. "Where we met the first time," muttered Darau. "Tomorrow, before the sun gets too high." The other rogues nodded their agreement. Zoma went off with Janja, Darau left trailing Aisha, and Mataka left, accompanied by Makini.

Kassan started after his son, but stopped as he heard "Kassan" come from the den. He turned around to see Katili walking toward him, alone.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Watch your back," the hyena said simply.

"Why?"

"Someone has it out for you. I don't know who. But things have been happening here that I don't like."

"Like what?"

"Ever hear of the Shadow?"

"No."

"It's been around here for months now. And it's been killing animals."

"It?"

"If you find out the gender, share. Until then, 'it.'"

"There's an animal that's murdering others around here?"

"Yes. It got two hyenas just last night."

Kassan felt fear grip him slightly. "You don't think . . ."

"I don't know who did it. They weren't from my clan, anyway. But they were killed, and they were behind something that I don't even like to think about. Cub-killing."

"It sounds like vigilante justice, if anything."

"Vigilante justice that's been going on for months. And it's not always what you might consider 'just.'"

"And? What should we care? Are you worried he or she might come after us because of our plans?"

Katili smiled. "Oh, no, Kass. I pretty sure he's after _you_. All I know is that I don't like him. I'm almost certain there are hyenas in my clan that know about him. And I have heard nothing. I don't like it when my clan keeps secrets, not from me."

"Are you sure he's after me?" asked Kassan.

"That's one thing I do know. I just hope he doesn't get the jump on you. It'd be a shame to lose you."

Kassan smiled. "So now your debt from Daima's paid?"

"No more debt." Katili turned back to the cave. "Just stay alive, Kass."

Kass watched her go and turned back to go into the grass. Makini and Mataka were gone, and he didn't feel like tracking them. He walked off in his own direction. Of course he'd stay alive. It was a full-time job for him.

oOo

Moyo walked up the side of the hyena pit, exiting for the night. He heard the conversation between the rogues and the hyenas carry on. The sudden flicker of a tail caught his attention, a tail that definitely wasn't a hyena's, a tail that he welcomed. He headed toward it.

He found the Shadow waiting for him in a small area of the pit, one that was almost completely shielded from prying eyes. The only places to see into it were a hole that you could see the floor of the pit through, and the entrance that Moyo walked through. It resembled a small den in the way it walled in from all directions but one.

The Shadow was peering through the hole toward the rogues. Moyo went and sat next to him. "I was wondering if you would notice me," said the Shadow, still looking out at the rogues.

"I almost walked right past you," admitted Moyo.

The Shadow smiled. "It's good that you're honest." He continued to stare for a few more moments before looking up at Moyo for the first time. "What do you think of him?"

"Who?"

"Kassan."

"He's . . ." Moyo didn't know what to say about the self-assuredness the leopard seemed to have and the awe that he inspired in others. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a howl. All of the hyenas went silent, and he heard Katili ask for their ears. "I—" began Moyo, but immediately the Shadow pressed a paw against Moyo's mouth, the universal sign for quiet.

Moyo listened in silence to Makini's speech. It seemed short, and definitely spur-of-the-moment. The pit seemed to shake with the howls of the hyenas once he was finished. "Well," said the Shadow, once everything had quieted down enough to talk again, "that was somewhat inspiring. Who is he?"

"He's . . ." Moyo suddenly realized he didn't know Makini's name. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know is name."

"I don't think I invited him," said the Shadow quietly, staring as the rogues left the pit, Moyo staring also. "Have any idea who he is?"

"I think he's Kassan's son."

The Shadow stared intently at Makini's back as he left. "And so young, too. . . It's a pity he'll have to die."

"What?" asked Moyo in surprise, turning his head quickly back to the Shadow.

"I will not have anyone Kassan holds dear left alive," said the Shadow, his voice quietly violent. "I am going to make sure he suffers just as much pain as I have."

"But he—"

"It's unfortunate for his son. He may actually be decent. But probably half of what he said down there was nothing but lies."

"This was never part of the agreement," said Moyo.

"This was never foreseen," said the Shadow simply.

"I don't want any more bloodshed than there has to be—"

"This _has_ to be done. Kassan took away my life. He took the life of my mate, he took the life of my cub, he drove me from my home. He is going to pay for that."

"Please," asked Moyo, "what did his son ever do to you?"

"It's enough that he exists," snarled the Shadow. Moyo knew that tone. The Shadow was prone to bursts of rage, things where he might do anything out of anger towards Kassan. From his story, Moyo wasn't quite so surprised to see him this way, especially now, as he had just seen Kassan walk into his paws and had been able to do nothing but wait. It was amazing how much patience the Shadow seemed to possess.

"I know how you feel—"

"You know _nothing_," growled the Shadow, fixing Moyo with an icy glare.

"You've told me—"

"I have been waiting _years_ to finally have my revenge. I will not leave Kassan any hope. None."

Moyo shook his head sadly. "Even though Kassan is—"

"Kassan is _nothing_ to me."

Moyo sighed. He could have backed out long before now. He might have, too, if it hadn't been for the fact that he knew the Shadow would stay by him, no matter what the risk. He'd shown that multiple times, and had risked exposing himself multiple times for Moyo. Moyo knew the Shadow would do whatever he asked, save anything involving Kassan. He had Moyo's complete trust, and deserved it.

"If . . . if it's worth anything," said Moyo, "his son seems nice."

"I bet," said the Shadow, turning back to his view-hole. He was silent for a few moments before saying, "But things have been getting out of control. Did you know that I killed two hyenas and a lion last night?"

"You did _what?_" hissed Moyo angrily. "I told you, _do not spill blood_—"

"—unless asking you first."

"This is my kingdom," said Moyo sternly. "I will not tolerate that kind of behavior."

"I didn't even know I killed anyone until today," said the Shadow.

"What?"

"Either I sleepwalk, or someone is killing and making it look like me. Granted, those animals _were_ on my hit list, and I was going to ask you about them soon, but I figured you had your paws full dealing with the rogues."

"What were they doing?" asked Moyo.

"Killing cheetah cubs. Taka."

"And you didn't touch them?" asked Moyo, a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Sire," said the Shadow, his tone honestly hurt, "do you think I would lie to _you?_"

Moyo was surprised to find that the question was actually honest. "You—you make me wonder, sometimes," Moyo admitted.

The Shadow looked unhappy. "I . . . I suppose I have been getting a little out of control recently. But please, sire, believe me. I would never kill without asking your permission first. Never."

"I know. But it's almost getting to the point that my father wants to make you an enemy of the lands."

"How? He doesn't even know my name, much less what I look like."

"I've pointed that out to him," said Moyo, smiling slightly at the ridiculousness of the thought of actually hunting down the Shadow.

"I hope you'll advise me when he does decide to come after me."

"Of course."

"That's good to know." The Shadow got up and headed toward the exit of his little haven inside the hyena pit. "Tell your sister good night from me."

"Sure," said Moyo.

The Shadow paused before leaving the little den. "And sire . . . if I find the imposter . . ."

Moyo bit his lip unhappily. "If you feel you have to," he finally said.

"Thank you, sire." Moyo watched as the Shadow slipped out into the pit, and then slowly out of it unnoticed. Moyo left himself a few minutes later, following the Shadow's footsteps.


	2. Preparations

Preparations

Preparations

The rogues met about mid-morning. They seemed to bond into pairs; Mataka with Makini, Darau with Aisha, and Janja with Zoma. Kassan came in alone. Makini stared at Kassan, thoughts flooding his mind of memories when that would never have happened, when his father always stood next to someone he said he loved, when they would nuzzle lovingly as they watched him scurry happily about.

_Everything was fine then_.

"Ideas?" Kassan asked, looking around at the others.

The group shook their head, save Zoma. "I got some," he said.

"You do?" asked Darau in surprise.

"Yeah. This used to be my home. Till I left, at least."

"Know the lands?" asked Mataka.

"Not too well," said Zoma. He scratched his left ear hard. "But I wouldn't doubt that I could pick up my bearings again pretty fast. Just need to get out and around."

"Do it," said Janja.

"Alright. Mind if I take pretty boy along with me?"

Makini grimaced slightly at the name. "He's all yours," said Mataka.

"Don't I get a say?" asked Makini.

"Sure," said Mataka. "What do you want for dinner when you get back?"

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Makini," said Darau, "just do it. We're going to be stuck here a long time—"

"One week my ass," muttered Zoma.

"—and tensions are going to get pretty high. You're the most inexperienced, so just buckle down and _do it_."

"Alright," said Makini. "You don't need to get that way about it."

"Great," said Mataka. "Me and Darau have to hide out; don't want any lions running around and being seen. Same for Aisha."

"I do not think that anything may be accomplished until we have sufficiently scouted the area," said Janja. The others made small nods of agreement.

"Fine," said Kassan. "I guess we're going to have to pay our hyena friends a visit to see how much they know about the kingdom. Alright, Makini, go with Zoma, dig up what you can, and we'll be back at that pit."

"Great," said Zoma. "Come on, Blackie." He headed out into the savannah, Makini following him. The other rogues turned for the pit, making idle conversation.

oOo

Makini followed Zoma closely, keeping hidden as well as possible. If any animal saw him, they would undoubtedly remember him. Pitch-black leopards were the extreme rarity, most leopards being spotted. Makini's kind had nearly died out. It was like a lion coming into a kingdom; it was an event that would stand out easily.

"Zoma, we shouldn't be this close to the pride," hissed Makini. "If we're seen—"

"If _you're_ seen, Blackie," said Zoma in an equally low voice. "I've got plenty of memories coming back; I could blend right in. Maybe not a perfect job, but it'd work. You, however, pretty boy, you—"

"Would you stop calling me that?"

Zoma crouched low next to a boulder. Makini pressed himself as close to the boulder as he could; it was a comforting dot of grey in a nearly all-yellow savannah. "Oh, come on, pretty boy," said Zoma. "You know you like it."

"No, I don't."

"I bet you spend _so long_ on prettying yourself up in the morning, getting all of those ruffles out of your fur, grooming yourself for the females, just like Daddy does—" Zoma was cut short by a hard, unfriendly blow to the back of his head. "Ow!" He turned to Makini, his eyes plainly showing his anger. "What the hell was that for?"

"Shut up," said Makini, his voice controlled too well to be normal. "Just shut up. Don't say that."

"Alright, alright," grumbled Zoma, realizing he had gone too far. He turned back to look at the den. He was silent a few seconds before his nature prompted him to say, "Okay, maybe not grooming for the _females_."

"My father," said Makini firmly, his voice shaking slightly, "is the best animal that I know. Don't you dare say that about him again."

Zoma turned to look at Makini with an annoyed look. "Okay, pretty . . . Look, Makini. Your daddy has slept with more animals on the gods' yellow earth than I could if I lived thirty times over. Ten to one, last night he made some female very happy, too. I don't have a problem with that. I don't have a problem with Kass. But you've got to accept that he's not perfect. You lived with Kass for what, a few months as a cub? I've known him for years. You have no idea who he is. He most definitely isn't that idol that you've built him up as."

"I realize that he's not perfect—"

"Great, problem solved," said Zoma, turning back around.

"—but I doubt he's the rogue you think he is. I know that my father is a great animal."

"Oxymoron."

"What?"

"'Great animal.' It's an oxymoron."

Makini sighed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Great. A cheetah that knows language. Great. Really helps. What else have you got?"

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said, okay? I just didn't realize you'd be . . ."

"What?" asked Makini. "Touchy?"

"Touchy." Makini shook his head, staring at the ground. A moment later he slowly made his way to the top of the boulder, pressing himself flat as he did so. "Look," said Zoma, "I realize you're going through a lot now. Just . . . if you need someone to talk to—"

"Go to you. I know—"

"Oh, hell no. Not me. Go to Janja. He can sit and listen for hours. He might even give you advice, if you ask real nicely."

"You seem to know him pretty well."

"_Very_ well."

"Are you . . . brothers?"

". . . In a way." Zoma began to move toward the area where the pride was. He held his paw at head height, then moved it down slowly. _Stay low_.

Makini slid carefully off the rock. "How'd you meet him?"

"Janja? Just at a job."

"Where?"

"Sheria."

"You met him _here?_"

"Yeah."

"And you've been traveling with him ever since?"

"Yeah, that's what mates do, right? Stay here."

_Mates?!_ Makini looked at Zoma in utmost shock as he stood up and proceeded casually toward the pride. Shock changed to horror as Makini realized what Zoma was doing.

"Can we help you?" a lioness called from the group.

"I was just looking for the king," said Zoma.

"He's out on his rounds around the kingdom. Is it something urgent?"

"No, I'll just come back later if it doesn't sort itself out. Family, eh, dispute I think would be a nice way of putting it."

"The king doesn't really need any more little problems like that. Shouldn't you have just asked Shuma to take care of it?"

"Shuma? I—I don't think she would understand. Besides, she's got so much other stuff on her mind—"

"Shuma's male," said the lioness, suspicion entering her voice.

"Uh . . . Well, he sure fools me. Pansy."

"I don't think I've seen you around before . . ."

"You sure? Tere's son?"

"She doesn't have a son," said the lioness suspiciously. "And she doesn't have that accent, either—"

"She hasn't told you about me? Lovable Zoma?"

Makini thought that was taking it too far, and apparently the lioness thought so, too. Whether she recognized Zoma's name or was just acting on suspicion, she suddenly screamed out, "Killer! Killer in the pride!"

Zoma immediately turned and ran, yelling, "Blackie, time to go!" Lionesses began to run after him.

Makini sprang up from the grass and ran after Zoma. Though Zoma was small for a cheetah, he obviously had speed. Makini couldn't catch up to him. The lionesses were almost on his tail as it was, but were slowly losing ground. Very slowly. He suddenly saw Zoma turn and head toward a large rock face that loomed over the den and slowly sloped down to normal height. The two of them had gone around it when they came down to the pride.

Zoma was running straight at it.

Zoma ran for the rock face, then jumped and landed on a ledge that stuck out of it. Now that he was closer, Makini could see that it wasn't smooth; there was a series of ledges that went up the side. Zoma pulled himself fully up onto the ledge, then held down a paw for Makini.

Makini knew this was going to hurt. He jumped for the paw and almost missed it. The two dug their claws into each other's forelegs as Zoma used Makini's inertia to swing him up to the next ledge, Makini landing flat on his stomach as Zoma let go, feeling the wind knocked out of him.

"Come on, pretty boy, get up," said Zoma hurriedly. The lionesses were at the foot of the rock face. Several were trying to secure holds on the ledge, a couple pulling themselves up slowly.

Makini slowly got up and put the foreleg that hadn't just been used out. He felt Zoma dig his claws into his foreleg again as he swung him up, Makini feeling as though his leg was going to rip straight out of its socket. He was sure Zoma wasn't enjoying this either. His forelegs were getting dug into quite as well as Makini's.

Makini looked down at the lionesses and saw that a few had managed to pull themselves up onto the ledge below him. He looked up to see Zoma extending a slightly bloody foreleg. Makini winced. He thought he hadn't cut that deep. He caught the foreleg again and felt a paw on a hind leg. Makini let out a hiss of pain as he dropped back down slightly, Zoma's claws not letting him sink all the way. Makini looked back down at the lioness that had his leg and kicked her square in the face with his other leg. She let go, falling back down to the ground, knocking another lioness down with her.

"Come on, Blackie," said Zoma, his voice pained. Makini jumped again, making sure to aim out and not up. He was swung up to the ledge above Zoma, feeling the wind knocked out of him with his landing again. He got up as quickly as he could and held out his paw again. Zoma jumped and let down a paw for him.

The lionesses were getting nowhere, only one of them having actually reached the second level. One of them on the ground shouted, "Around to the top!" The ones on the ground ran to try their luck going the long way up to the top. The ones on the ledges started to make their way back down to the ground.

"Blackie, we don't have all day," said Zoma. "Move!"

Makini jumped again, continuing the painful process of jumping and swinging, the top coming ever closer. He knew that this was the fastest way up and that speed was what they needed right now, not ease like the lionesses did. Knowing that didn't ease the pain, though. When they did reach the top, Makini found himself almost unable to sit up. His forelegs were a bloody mess. He let down a paw one last time for Zoma, who landed next to him, breathing heavily.

"Come on," Zoma said. "I know where we can hide."

"I can't walk on these," said Makini, panting himself.

"Neither can I," said Zoma, collapsing. "Just two seconds. That's all we need. Just two seconds rest."

The two seconds were extended multiple times. Zoma stood up finally. "Okay, kid, let's go." He began to slowly limp away. He turned as he heard yells. The lionesses had almost made their way up the rocky terrain. Makini stood up, groaning with pain, and began to limp hurriedly after Zoma.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Mama's."

oOo

Cheetahs stared as they watched one of their own limp into the enclave where most of them lived. They didn't know who he was. He was followed by a black leopard. Both of them were heading towards Tere's place. The cheetahs shook their head. Everyone knew better than to disturb Tere when she didn't want to be. There was no telling what would happen now. All they could guess that it wouldn't be good for those two.

Makini followed Zoma back to where three leopards laid. All of them looked up as Zoma approached. One of them stood up as Zoma came in, her face stunned. Zoma held out a bloody foreleg for a hug. "Mama."

The cheetah that had stood up walked over to Zoma quickly and slapped him across the face. Royal poured out of her mouth. Makini, who had only heard it used for cursing, assumed that she had quite a bit to say about Zoma. Then, to his surprise, he heard Zoma interrupt her in Royal. They were actually carrying on a conversation in it. The other two cheetahs that were lying on the ground were staring at Zoma with expressions of disgust.

Makini didn't quite know when he realized that it wasn't quite a conversation, but more of an argument. It could have been when the voices got louder, the gesticulating fiercer, or maybe it could have been when both of the cheetahs on the ground started snarling unconsciously. Makini didn't understand a word of it; all he knew was that the cheetah arguing with Zoma must have said something extraordinary, as Zoma suddenly shut up and took two steps back, a stunned look on his face.

Makini watched as Zoma stared at his mother, then quietly said, "Mama, please, I just—just—I need your help, Mama."

Tere took a step closer to Zoma and spit in his face, Zoma wincing. "I will have nothing to do with you. You are no son of mine." She looked at Makini. "I'll treat _him_, but may the gods strike me down the moment I do _anything_ to help you."

Zoma began to nod his head faintly, the nodding growing stronger. "Makini," he finally said, and added something in Royal Makini couldn't understand at all. He began to walk away, and finally turned around and said to Makini, "I said come on!" Makini followed Zoma, taking one last look at the cheetahs before he left. The three were staring at Zoma with a negative emotion that Makini couldn't quite describe.

"Where are we going?" asked Makini quietly.

"The shaman," said Zoma.

"Isn't that dangerous? What if he sells us out—"

"She won't. She's always been good to me. If she hasn't died."

"Died?"

"She's old. Come on, she'll fix us up."

Makini didn't say another word as he was led to the shaman's den. To his surprise, she was a hyena, and obviously quite old. Her breath rattled as she drew it in and out of her body, as if protesting. "Zoma?" she asked. "Is that you? Gods, I thought you were dead by now . . . Come in, what can I do?"

Zoma silently held up a bloody foreleg.

"My word . . . here, I'll get the herbs, and Mbulu can tie some bandages. Mbulu!" she called. A younger monkey came out of the den. He looked at Zoma and stared at Makini. "Mbulu, get r'laka. And get some leaves to cover the wounds, as well."

"He needs it too," said Zoma quietly. The shaman nodded and the monkey went to collect herbs for the both of them. "Don't tell anyone we were here," Zoma said. "Not even the king."

"Especially not the king," said Makini.

"Stirring up trouble again?" asked the hyena with a grin that showed about a third of her teeth to be missing.

"Yes," said Zoma in the same quiet voice.

"Been to see your mother?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The hyena's grin slid off her face. "You knew this would happen, Zoma. That was why you left."

"I thought that maybe she changed."

Mbulu came back carrying leaves and thin vines. "She does not understand your choice. I don't either, but I believe that you do. Hold out your leg." Zoma did so, and the monkey began to dress his leg. "I trust you Zoma. You have conviction about your beliefs. I let it all happen because I knew you wouldn't just give up."

"I haven't."

"And I'm very proud of you for that. Other leg."

Zoma was quiet for the rest of the visit, not speaking while he was being doctored to, or while Makini got the same. In the end, both of them had their legs wrapped in r'laka leaves, the thin vines that the leopard had brought holding the leaves tightly against their legs.

"Alright, you aren't to take those off for three days," said the shaman. "If you do, you'll have me to answer to."

"Thank you," said Zoma. He and Makini began to head out of the den.

"And Zoma?"

"Yeah?" Zoma turned around to see the hyena just behind him.

"Give this to Janja from me," said the hyena, holding up her foreleg for a hug. "I'm sure he won't mind."

Zoma held the hyena tightly against his body, tighter than Makini expected. Makini noticed tears in Zoma's eyes and heard what sounded uncomfortably like "Shh" from the hyena. He looked away in embarrassment. Finally he heard, perfectly levelly, "Let's go, kid." Makini followed Zoma back to the rogues' meeting place.

oOo

Makini followed Zoma back, working up the nerve to ask Zoma what exactly had happened. "Zoma?" he finally asked quietly.

"What?" asked Zoma, slight irritation in his voice.

"Well . . . uh . . . when you said—about you and Janja being—mates—did you mean—married?"

"No, I meant mates as in friends, asshole," said Zoma sarcastically. "Of course I meant married. Why?" He looked back at Makini. "Mataka didn't tell you, did he?"

"No," said Makini, looking at the ground.

"Am I going to get the freak treatment from you, too?" Zoma asked, anger entering his voice.

"I didn't mean it like that—"

"I've met plenty of animals like you, pretty boy! And if you're just going to tell me off, then you might as well save it, or I'll cram those words right back down your throat!" Zoma turned angrily into the grass.

"Zoma, I didn't mean it like that—Zoma!" Makini headed after Zoma. He stopped as he came to a clearing, seeing Zoma in it with his face hidden in Janja's neck, Janja rubbing Zoma's back. Makini stayed just outside the clearing, thinly veiled in the grass.

"Zoma, was it your mother?" Janja asked quietly.

"Yes," said Zoma, sounding very much like he was crying.

"Zoma, you knew what she thought—"

"She called me a half-carcass whore! And the things she called you . . . Gods, Janja, she's my mother!"

"Zoma, just forget about it," said Janja. "They are just words."

"They hurt, Janja."

"Just forget." Janja gave Zoma a kiss on the back of his head. "Just forget." Janja looked straight at Makini. Makini felt a shock go through him. He didn't expect Janja to realize he was there. He embarrassedly walked the rest of the way into the clearing.

"Yes, Makini?" asked Janja.

"I—I just wanted to explain to Zoma . . ."

"It is not your fault." Janja turned his head to look at Zoma. "Would you be alright if I talked to him outside?" Zoma nodded. Janja stood up and left him in the clearing, telling Makini "Come." Makini followed Janja until Janja sat down. "Let me explain, so that you understand," he said.

"You don't need to—"

"Makini, I do not want you thinking what I know you do. Listen to me. Zoma was exiled from his home because of the way that he feels. He is bisexual. His mother could not accept a son that had feelings for other males. Her decision caused him more grief that I thought he could bear. He loved his mother very, very much."

"She kicked him out because he was gay?" asked Makini incredulously.

"That is a way of putting it," said Janja in his slow way of talking. "Sex is a very strong thing in our society, and to think that she made a mistake in raising her son to tell which sex to love . . . she pushed him away, hoping to distance herself from her 'failure.' Zoma does enjoy females, something I do not understand, and I in turn enjoy some other species, which he does not understand. But we are married. I allow him leniency and a few others if he pleases, and he does the same for me. But if either one of made it clear that we did not want that to continue, we would both stop. We love each other very much, Makini."

"I . . . I guess I just don't understand your tastes."

"That is not surprising. You have been taught that it is wrong to love other males, something that I had to help Zoma break free of. But it is understandable. But you must understand this, Makini. Zoma is no different than when you met him. He is the same cheetah. He was bisexual before you met him, and he still is now. He is still the same—asshole—that he was before," said Janja with a smile. "You know he means it all in fun, do you not?"

"Yeah. I kind of figured that out. But Janja . . . what if you decide you want a cub? Like a—" Makini hesitated to say it.

"Like a normal married couple?"

"Yes."

"We would adopt. There are many cubs in the wild with no parents. We would raise him—or her—to the best of our ability. The cub would not lack."

"But—I know this sounds harsh, but wouldn't it be best if it wasn't raised by animals who were, you know—gay?"

"Makini, this is one of the many problems that I have had with animals. You think we are second-class."

"No, that's not it at all—"

"It is. Perhaps second-class is not the best word, but it is what it amounts to. Because we are different, you want to deny us certain privileges. There are those that would not even let us be together, let alone marry."

"Janja, I didn't mean it like that—"

"Really?"

Makini fell silent. "Yes," he finally said. "I meant that. I—I just—I didn't think what was right for the cub would be that."

"You believe that a cub should be raised in a 'normal' environment, and then be allowed to choose whether or not to pursue the same sex."

"Yeah. I mean, is that so wrong?"

"It is not wrong. But it is not right, either. You were raised knowing that it was wrong to show too much affection toward any other males. It is the same for females. All cubs would believe that. But if they were raised my way, they would be no different, only opposite. Makini, to let a cub truly know what they would prefer, you should teach tolerance toward hetero- and homosexuals. But society is not ready for that, and may never be."

"If you put it that way . . . it does seem different."

Janja smiled, and then the smile faded as he argued with himself silently. "Makini," he said, "I know this is a bad time to say this, but there is not a good time, and this time is better than any I can imagine."

"Shoot."

"If . . . well, if you would consider looking into our lifestyle a little more . . ."

"Janja . . . Janja, that's . . . big. Really big. I'm not sure I could do that."

"If you ever change your mind, I am here. It is not as bad as you believe." Janja smiled guiltily. "But I will not push you. I will be with Zoma, if you need me."

"Where's Kassan?"

"Your father? I believe he is with Mataka and the others. He will be back soon." Janja's eyes drifted down to the leaves on Makini's forelegs. "And he will want to know all about your little . . . trip."

Makini swallowed. He didn't quite know how Kassan would react, but Mataka would not be happy.

oOo

"Do you have any idea what you've done? You could have exposed us all. We are no longer safe." Somehow, the quiet tones of anger were worse than screaming. "We could have an entire kingdom's wrath on us any second now. If either of you were seen coming back here, or betrayed, Zoma, by your mother, we could be dead in a matter of minutes."

"We weren't seen—" began Makini.

"And on top of that, you were injured. How can we possibly expect to finish this even remotely close to a week? The hyenas have already told us that they will not extend the deadline, and they _mean_ it. They want this done _now_. And those wounds will _not_ close in one week. What were you thinking?"

"Run," said Zoma.

"What?"

"We were thinking 'run.' You know, for our lives."

"This isn't the time for jokes—"

"Kass, relax," said Mataka. "Mistakes happen. For all we know, we could be running for our lives in a few days' time."

"Mataka, that is not the point," said Kassan. "They did their job foolishly, recklessly—"

"Yeah, but what do you expect from Zoma?"

"I thought that Makini would at least show some self-control!"

"And what do you expect from a guy trained by me and Nasiha? Kass, I know this sounds like She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but _relax_. There's no point in getting worked up about it. Look, we sent Janja back early to meet them if they got back before we did, and from what it sounds like, they found a lot more stuff out than they would have if they were just slow and cautious."

"That is no excuse—"

"You want to chew 'em out? Fine. You take one, I'll take one."

"Zoma, come with me," said Kassan.

"No, Zoma, come with me," said Mataka. "I know I don't _critique_ that well. We should save the one with the most problems for the more—experienced."

"Mataka, I know what you're doing," said Kassan.

"And hey, it's still working. Come on, Zoma." Mataka disappeared into the savannah, Zoma following him with what almost sounded like quiet laughter.

Kassan turned to Makini. Makini was staring at him with an utterly blank face, sitting straight up on his forelegs, the leaves around them having turned red on the edges from blood. Kassan took a deep breath and began to pace in front of Makini. "You behaved recklessly. You could have exposed us all."

"I was following Zoma's lead—"

"You knew that Zoma was unstable! He has a tendency to do stupid things without thinking at all! You knew this!"

"Unstable?" asked Makini, disgust in his voice.

"Unstable. He is a danger at best—"

"Then why does Mataka think he's one of the best rogues there are? If you haven't noticed, just about all of 'the best' have been gathered here."

"Mataka's reasoning and mine are different. Mataka does not know caution."

"Mataka knows courage!" said Makini angrily. "He knows that you have to _do_ something to get a job accomplished—"

"And look what it's done for him. A long succession of jobs with an injury on almost every one of them—"

"We're asked to _kill_ animals! You think they're just going to stand there and go quietly?"

"We are not killing anyone. That was almost what ruined him with that cubnapping; Mataka does not know patience."

"He knows plenty of damn patience; he just knows when to use it! If you haven't noticed, we have to get this job done in five days because today's pretty much shot!"

"All the more reason for doing it carefully—"

"All the more reason for getting it done and over with! Mataka has the right idea! Those hyenas are going to get more and more tense the closer the deadline comes! We can't use them; all they'll be is a flaw when it comes down to actually doing the job! We don't need a clan of angry hyenas on our back!"

"We can extend the deadline if we have to."

"You just said we couldn't!"

"We'll find a way."

"A way," said Makini skeptically. "Alright, since you've got all the answers, what's _my_ problem, _Daddy?_"

Kassan stopped dead. He swallowed.

"Well, _Daddy?_ What're all my problems, _Daddy?_"

"Don't call me that."

"What's the matter, _Daddy?_"

Kassan turned toward Makini. "You can call me Father, you can call me Dad, you can call me Kass, you can call me You Goddamn Son of a Bitch. _Not_ Daddy."

"Why? You used to love that name, _Daddy_. You used to love everything I did."

"Makini, you've grown up—"

"I'm your son!"

"I haven't seen you in years—"

"Do you really think that makes a difference?!" yelled Makini, standing up. "You loved Mom, you loved me! We were a family until you decided to run off!"

"Makini, you don't understand—"

"Then explain it to me!"

"I—I can't stay. Not me. I wanted more."

"More than us?! More than all the love we could give you?! Mom cried for weeks after you left! The only reason she stopped was because she got a horn through her gut!"

"Makini, please, I do regret your mother's death—"

"Bullshit! You could have stopped it! If you hadn't left, it never would have happened!"

"There was nothing I could do. Makini, your mother had a price on her head."

"You expect me to believe that?!"

"It's true. She was marked for death." Kassan paused. "It was because I was with her, and because of you. You were evidence of what I did with her. She used to be quite the . . . She slept with a great deal of leopards. When one of her former lovers discovered that she was with me, he wanted her killed."

"I can't believe that," said Makini. "Do you really expect me to believe that my mother—the one who loved me unconditionally, and at least _stayed_ with me—was as much of a whore as you?"

"Makini, I left for her safety. I was much more of a distinctive leopard than she was; they'd be looking for me. I had to leave. They wouldn't know who she was on her own. She would have been safe. If it hadn't been for that hunting accident . . ."

"So you left to save her, is that it?"

"Yes."

"I don't know whether I've heard more bullshit in my life," said Makini. "You could have stayed. You could have _fought_. Look at what you can do! You're a rogue, Father, and one of the best! Maybe even the best! And you say that there was nothing that you could've done to save her?"

"Makini, I am . . . not proud of what I did. I was a coward the day I left your mother."

"Damn right you were."

Kassan looked away, embarrassed. "Makini," he said, "I want to make it up to you. I really do. You had every chance of a normal life stolen from you. I want to change that."

"Do you really think you can make my life normal now? Now, when I'm a rogue? You took that chance away from me, Father. I'm never going to be normal."

Kassan wasn't ready for the bluntness. "I—I can see how you would think that—"

"It's true, and you know it."

"I . . . don't want it to be true."

"And you expect me to believe that? You left me like you left so many other cubs."

"Makini . . . I was wrong to do that. I'm not going to say that I don't enjoy my lifestyle. I do. But I—I killed your mother with what I did. And I am sorry. And I really, truly, and honestly want to make it up to you."

Makini stared at Kassan. Finally he shook his head. "By the gods, you're a wonderful liar."

"Makini, you have to believe me. Please. I don't want to have you turn away from me. You're all the family I have."

"You expect me to believe you just had a sudden change of heart?"

"No. But I want to try to be a good father. I really do. Please, trust me."

Makini was quiet. "I want to believe you," he said. "I really do."

"Makini, I'm being honest. I want to be the best father I can to you. It's the least I can do for all I've put you through. Please."

Makini hesitated, then wrapped a foreleg around his father, pulling him close. Kassan gasped slightly, surprised by the action, then slowly placed a foreleg around Makini, feeling his tears on his shoulder.

"I love you, Dad."

Kassan swallowed, then smiled and rubbed Makini's back. "I know." Maybe he could be a decent father.

oOo

"So, I hear the Shadow killed three more," said the king as he looked down at the carcass the lionesses had brought him. He looked up at Moyo.

"Did he?" asked Moyo.

"Yes. Along with several cheetah cubs."

Moyo gagged on the bit of meat he had in his mouth. The king looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Cubs?" Moyo finally said.

"Yes. Cubs."

"How . . . awful."

"I've been pestered all of today to do something about it. Apparently the incident happened two nights ago."

"Hmm." Moyo looked down at his sister, Chuma, who was eating off the carcass now, taking her slow, careful bites.

"We need to put a stop to it."

Moyo looked up at the plural. "We?"

The king smiled. "Of course. You don't expect me to leave you the kingdom without any actual experience in ruling, do you?"

"I . . . I don't know what to say, Father."

"Of course, this doesn't mean that you'll have any power beyond what I give you. I want you to remember that. That is one of the most important lessons a king should know. He must not overextend himself. His power is there, but that does not necessarily mean that it must be used. Choose when to exercise it." The king smiled. "Starting with the Shadow."

"Father . . . are you sure that's really the best thing?"

"Catching a criminal like him? Of course! Vigilante 'justice' is one thing I will not stand for in my kingdom."

"But I—I'd heard that the number of—well, of crimes has gone down since . . ."

"You aren't suggesting he's _helping_, are you?"

"Father, I—yes, I am," said Moyo.

"He has just killed innocent cubs. He has gone too far with that."

"But you don't know he's done that—"

The king smiled. "I know how you seem to believe that he is a hero, and a large part of the kingdom does, too. But he is committing _crimes_, Moyo, _crimes_. It doesn't matter if he seems to be a decent animal; if he is doing something that is wrong, then he must be punished. That is justice."

"I know, Father, but what if . . . what if you let an animal off once in a while?"

"Let him off? That sets a precedent—"

"But what about that cheetah, Father? The pregnant one?"

"She killed a leopard!"

"But Father, she said it was self-defense. Couldn't you have believed her?"

"She had no evidence for her actions," said the king.

"But—"

"And neither does the Shadow. If you can prove to me that every single murder he has made—and that's what they are, murders—if you can prove they all are for the greater good, then maybe I'll reconsider my punishment. But until then, I want his head. And I want it from you."

"But Father—how can you catch a shadow?"

"That is precisely the thing that I did not want to hear! He has made himself into some kind of legend, and that inspires fear! He is an ordinary animal, nothing more. He bleeds, just like all of us."

"But Father, if no one's even seen him, how am I supposed to know what I'm looking for?"

"_Try_. That's all you have to—" He was interrupted by a gagging sound. Moyo looked down at his sister, Chuma, to see her choking on something. "Idiot girl!" said the king. He hit Chuma across the face.

"Here," said Moyo gently, bringing his sister's head up. He reached inside her mouth and carefully pulled out the bit of meat that had a bone stuck in it.

"I don't know why we even keep her here," said the king. "If only your mother had borne a half-way intelligent daughter . . ."

Moyo wiped his paw off on his coat, then kissed his sister gently. "There," he said. "Better?" Chuma nodded, and began to go slowly away from her quickly-angered father.

"Of all the unfortunate things," said the king. "Why do we even keep her?" he repeated.

Moyo looked up at his father, pity for his sister burning in him. "Because it's just."

oOo

"Alright," said Mataka, "based on what we've got, it's definitely going to be an inside job."

"And?" asked Katili. The clan leader had insisted that she, or at least one hyena, be included in every meeting the rogues had. The rogues had felt that it was best to indulge her. After tonight, they only had five days left to work their magic.

"And that means that the pride needs to trust someone. Meaning that Aisha makes herself cute and adorable. As opposed to the hellish bitch she usually is."

"Hey!"

"Sorry if the truth stings a little, Aisha."

"I'll show you stinging."

"One of these days."

"In the meantime," said Kassan, "the rest of us will be watching the pride. Boring, routine stuff as we try to find a pattern of how they work, how they move, and try to determine the best points of attack. Of course, if we could have longer than a week, we could do a much more thorough—"

"It's out of the question," said Katili. "If you're just watching the pride for weaknesses, five days should be more than enough."

"Katili," said Janja in his slow, rolling voice, "let me try to explain. We are working with something that is completely and absolutely fluid. A pride without a den moves every day, even if it is just a hundred yards. They spread out when they sleep. If we were working with a den, we would be more than able to assault it in five days. A den makes a set area. But a pride without a den changes every day. We will have to note each lioness and her actions, and note them perfectly, or else there will only be a perfect mess. If we were killing, that would be different. But the prince wants no casualties unless absolutely necessary. We try to fulfill the requirements of our job exactly. We will assault that pride in five days if you force us to, but it would be very likely that animals would get hurt, and it would probably be one of us first."

"I see what you're saying, but what you are saying is that someone will get hurt. You are the best, or so you tell me. If that's true, you shouldn't have any problem getting to the king. I don't care if you kill anyone on the way there; that's the prince's obsession. I just want the king gone. And if one or more of you die, then I could honestly care less."

There were low, suppressed snarls. "I do not believe you quite comprehend what you just said," said Janja.

"I could care less about what happens to rogue filth. That's what I said."

"You filthy hyena," said Zoma, his rage open and obvious.

"At least I have a home!"

"You're lower than vermin!"

"And you aren't? You're lower than us! Look at yourselves, thinking that you can go where you like and do whatever you please to whomever you want—"

"Because we can," said Darau. "We actually go out and explore, while all you other animals stay in your kingdom and cower."

"Is that right? Because from what I know, rogues are nothing more than exiled criminals!"

Darau suddenly launched himself onto Katili. There were yells of "Hey!" from the rogues, and Kassan and Janja hurriedly put their forelegs around Darau's, trying to drag him off her.

"Listen, you bitch," said Darau angrily, "I had no reason to leave! I did nothing! I grew up; is that a crime now? Is it?!"

"Darau, she didn't know," said Kassan.

"Goddamn filthy bitch—"

Aisha went in front of him. "Darau—Darau, easy. Just forget about." She put her paw on his face.

Darau hung his head and relaxed. Kassan, Janja, and Aisha backed away. Darau looked up at Katili again. "You're lucky they're here. You have no idea." He turned away toward the edge of the clearing they were in. "Filthy bitch."

"Look," said Kassan as the others eyed Darau carefully, "we just want more than a week. Someone's going to get hurt. They always do. But not if we have longer."

"One week," said Katili. "No longer."

Kassan sighed. "Fine," said Mataka. "You wanted regular updates, you got 'em. All we got for you. We have nothing, and all we're going to be doing is watching, and reporting to someone every night for five more days. Is that right?"

"Yes," said Katili. "But how you do the job is your business."

Mataka shook his head. "Alright," he said, "we walk."

"What?" came from the other rogues.

"We've done it before. We'll do it again. She's not giving us what we need, and all we're asking for is a little more time. We should walk. Right now."

"Mataka, that's not an option," said Kassan.

"And why not? Or maybe you'd like to be the one that dies?"

"No one is going to die."

"Says you."

"Says me."

"Mataka, we can do the job," said Janja. "We will simply have to be careful."

"I mean, we're the best, right?" said Makini. "We can do it."

Mataka blew out a long stream of air. "Fine," he said, getting up and walking away. "Fine, great, we'll do it, and if you find me at the bottom of the waterhole tomorrow, don't bother getting me out."

Zoma turned to Katili. "His way of saying 'good night.' Come on, Janja." Zoma walked out of the clearing. Janja nodded to Katili, then followed. Darau marched moodily out of the clearing, not saying a word. Katili left, and then Aisha, then Makini, looking back at his father.

Kassan looked at Makini, then said, "Go ahead. Mataka'll want you." Makini left. Kassan sighed and headed after Katili. He found her drinking at a waterhole. He walked up next to her.

Katili stopped drinking as she saw Kassan's reflection in the pond. "Yes?"

"We just want a little more time," Kassan said. "That's all."

"I want to believe you, I really do," said Katili.

"You trusted me before."

"But I have a clan to think of now. I have to think of others besides myself."

"I'm sure you do. But you're the akida. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"It means responsibility. I'm not going to risk all of their lives."

"Why would I betray you? Why would any of us?"

"I don't trust rogues."

"You trusted me."

"I let you get close to me. You're different, Kass, you were orphaned."

"Doesn't that mean I'm more of a rogue than any of them?"

Katili smiled. "Twisting my words." She sighed. "Mother would be proud of you."

"Katili, please. Just a little longer."

Katili smiled again. She leaned up and licked him under the jaw. "Persuasion is a good thing."

"Katili, I—I'm trying to stop this."

Katili drew her head back in surprise. "What?"

"I—I'm trying to be a good father to Makini."

Katili smiled. "And you think this is being a bad example?"

"I—well, isn't it?"

Katili kissed him again, and rubbed against his leg. "Makini's not here." She felt Kassan shudder. "You weren't meant to reform, Kass. Just let me trust you again."

Kassan looked down at her. "Why not?" he whispered into her ear. He drew her head close and kissed her passionately. "You can't cure everything at once."

oOo

Moyo nuzzled Chuma lovingly, then applied another r'laka leaf to her shoulder. Chuma moaned in pain slightly, but didn't try to shy away. She trusted Moyo, and far more than she trusted anyone else.

"What happened?"

Moyo jumped, exclaiming "Aiheu!" He turned to see a black leopard behind him. Kassan's son. "Don't ever do that _again_," he breathed.

"Sure," said Makini. His mouth twitched in what was most likely a smile.

"And what do you want?"

"To talk to you. Am I interrupting anything?"

"Just—just helping Chuma here."

"Can I trust her?"

"Why?"

"Because I'll have to kill her otherwise."

"No!" said Moyo, shocked. "Of course you can trust her; she wouldn't betray anyone, she's my sister for Mano's sake." He shook his head as he pressed the r'laka more firmly against Chuma's shoulder.

"What?" asked Makini.

"You're just as bad as he said you were. You're just like your father, aren't you?"

"As bad as who said I was?"

Moyo stopped rubbing the leaf suddenly. He swallowed nervously. "No one. I—I just—"

"Who are you talking about?" pressed Makini. "None of us like backstabbing, prince."

"It's—no one, really. He said he didn't want you to know."

"I'm not joking, prince," said Makini coldly. "We've got enough problems with the hyenas. We aren't going to be betrayed by you."

"It—it was that lion, okay? The one with you."

"Mataka?"

"Maybe that's his name. I don't know."

"You should have just said it was one of us. We aren't going to look away from any backstabbing, prince. We were given everything wrong about this job."

"I—needed you. Is that so bad?"

Makini stared at Moyo. For all the world, he looked just like a lion who was tending another's wounds. Moyo was a gentle creature. For him to actually be plotting a rebellion . . . it was almost unbelievable. It was desperate.

"Look," said Makini in a gentler voice than he had been using, "we're here to help you. That's what we do. At least, that's what I do. But you've got us worried; this whole job has all of us worried. Everything's being rushed, nothing's as we were told . . . sire, someone's going to die. That's inevitable. And it could be your sister, your mother, your cousin . . . even your father. If push comes to shove, we'll be fighting, and we won't be showing mercy. We want to live, prince."

"My mother's dead," said Moyo quietly. "You won't have to worry about her."

"Oh . . . I'm sorry. . . . How did it happen?"

"Birthing me."

"I know how you feel, a little. My mother's dead, too."

"How?"

"Hunting accident. All I have is Dad now."

"The only one?"

"Well, there's my aunt, but I can't exactly go home now. Not without facing all of those rumors. Just in and out now."

"Rumors?"

"Kidnapped a lion cub. Very first job I had. That was almost a year ago, I think."

"Oh." That was all Moyo could think to say.

"I came here to ask you for something."

"What?"

"About sunset, if you go out around the southern part of the kingdom, you'll find a lioness. We need you to take her back with you. Make her comfortable. Accepted, if you get my drift."

"You want to sneak that lioness that was with you into our pride?"

"And you have something against that?"

"It's—mating season."

"And?" asked Makini.

"What if she decides that she—that she wants to . . ."

"Then she'll make it known, and we'll expect you to act normally. You just found her, you've never seen her before, but you believe her story."

"You actually expect me to—"

"Yeah," said Makini. "If that's what you'd do."

"But—but she won't actually . . ."

"Ey-Aye . . . she's—playful."

"Please tell me this is a joke. That this is all a really bad joke."

Makini finally grinned, unable to keep a straight face any longer. "She'll promise to behave. You aren't her type anyway."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Damned if I know," said Makini, getting up and beginning to leave. "That's just what Mataka said. Don't forget, sire. Sundown tonight."

Moyo watched him disappear into the grass completely, then turned to Chuma. "Well," he said quietly, "looks like we're going to have a friend staying here for a little while."

"Who?" asked Chuma in her still-not-grown voice.

"Oh, just another lioness. Her name's Ey-Aye."

"Ey-Aye?"

"That's right, Ey-Aye. She's just coming here to visit for a while . . ."

oOo

Aisha wandered in a straight line toward where the pride was supposed to be sleeping. If the prince didn't show for some reason, she should be fine anyway. She could probably make her way into the pride, but it would be so much easier with Moyo to vouch for her. And then she saw him, walking toward her from the left.

"I thought I was going to have to do this without you," she said as Moyo caught up to her.

"I know the danger you're in," said Moyo. "My father doesn't just let animals stroll through your kingdom."

"From what I hear, that hasn't stopped that Shadow guy."

"No, it hasn't. And now he wants me to track him down."

"You?" Aisha laughed. "Of all the animals, he sends someone like _you?_"

"What?"

"Sire, you aren't a killer. You wouldn't hurt a fly. Don't get me wrong, that's a great quality sometimes. But if he expects you to get this guy . . ." Aisha shook her head. "The king obviously has a lot more faith in you than we do."

"Fathers are like that."

"Yeah, when they aren't busy taking acuyle."

"Taking what?"

"Acuyle. It's a plant. Makes you see things."

"Why would he . . . oh."

"Yeah. Course, sometimes the things you see aren't the best. It can get pretty scary."

"He—he gave some to you?"

"Nah, he'd never give it to me. I took it myself. Stopped it completely after I had a really bad time. Thought worms were coming out of my teeth. Tried to pull 'em out. The teeth, that is. Got three out before Mom stopped me. She was clean, at least right then."

"How . . . well, why . . . never mind—"

"You want to know what happened to my life."

"Yes. But if you don't want—"

"Sire, I don't give a damn. After four days, I'm never going to see you again. So I don't mind telling you."

"I—I'd never really looked at it that way."

"It was all fine at the beginning, really. Mom was happy, Dad was happy, I was happy. And then when I was about one, one and a half, things began to go downhill. See, Dad wanted a pride, and he only had me and Mom, and Mom wasn't the happiest either; marriage just wasn't working out for them. So Dad started using, and Mom, and me. Course, I stuck to acuyle; Dad stockpiled it, wasn't too hard to get at. If he got any of the better stuff, like gyuja or klain, that was gone as soon as he got it. Same for Mom. I wasn't that stupid; I saw what it did to them, and I tried some of the harder stuff, vajedu, and I didn't like it too much, and I really didn't like how wasted I got after it. So I just stuck to acuyle. Had to keep using more of it, wouldn't get the same effect with the same amount. Until the whole teeth thing.

"But even with that, it still couldn't take all the pain away. I don't know of any plant that does, except fanu, and that knocks you out, so it doesn't really count. And I tried to kill myself. I've tried six times. Even after I left, I still tried. Because I knew that they'd just being doing all the hard stuff they could get they're paws on, anything and everything, and my leaving . . . that didn't help. Going back wasn't an option, killing myself was the only way I saw. I had a miserable life.

"But, like I said, I just finally decided to leave them one day. I was tired of hearing all the fighting and never being able to talk to them 'cause they were washed out. Just joined a pride when I was three and a half, four years old, and they helped me kick it completely. Helped me over a lot of issues. Mataka did the rest of them. He put up with me pretty well."

"You know, my life really doesn't seem all that bad," said Moyo quietly.

"Oh, it's probably just as bad as mine, just in another way. Lot of rogues come from broken lives. Zoma's mom threw him out, Kass is a war orphan, Darau was run out from one of those prides that don't let their males grow up, Makini lost his mom in a stampede, Mataka got exiled. Janja . . . he's been okay, though. Course, we've all learned to just chillax. Take life as it comes. You have to out there. Just one job to the next."

"I don't think I could live that way."

"Yeah, a lot of them are miserable. They aren't real rogues. They just leave home, then move somewhere else, settle down, be happy." Moyo was silent. "And I almost forgot to tell you everything. Okay, my name is Aisha, I'm coming here because my pride was taken over and I had to leave to survive, and I'm just looking for a place to stay."

"You're just going to be a lovable stray?"

"One of the things I do best. That and kill animals. Anything I should know about?"

"Not that I know."

"Anything I should say?"

"Say?"

"To impress?"

"Father never was one for flattery."

"Of course, he's never met me," said Aisha with a smile. They walked a little further in silence, Aisha musing, before she stopped, Moyo going ahead a few paces before stopping. "Hit me," said Aisha.

"What?"

"Right here, across the face, as hard as you can. Claws out."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Moyo stared at her, then swiped at her.

"I said hit me, not tap me. Come on, as hard as you can."

Feeling that he was going to regret this, Moyo brought his paw back and swung at Aisha. She fell to the ground, her cheek bleeding freely. "Are you okay?" asked Moyo hurriedly.

"Ow . . . Okay, now the stomach. Hit me in the gut. Like you were attacking me."

"Are you sure?"

"Come on, do it!"

Moyo hit her, then did it again and again as she requested it, making it look as if she really _had_ been beaten, and quite helpless to do anything about it. It was a little sickening to know that he was the one who had done it.

"Alright, that's good," Aisha finally said. She got up and began to head toward the pride again with a limp that wasn't entirely faked. She stopped and turned back to Moyo. "You coming?"

"You look awful."

"Gee, thanks. Come on."

Moyo trotted to catch up to her and began leading her to the pride. When they got there, the lionesses predictably stared at Aisha. Aisha just looked around at them, feigning nervousness. She was silently observing them behind her mask, looking for the ones that would pose the most threat and would need to be taken care of first.

"And that's my father, the king," said Moyo quietly to her. Aisha looked at the lion they were heading to. The king was sitting up to receive Aisha.

"Yes, Moyo? Who is this?"

"This—this is Aisha, Father. I found her in the kingdom. I thought maybe we could . . . you know, let her stay with us."

"For how long?"

"Well . . . for life, Father."

"That's an awful lot to ask for a stranger, Moyo," said the king.

"But please, Father, she just wants our help."

"So far I haven't heard her ask for a thing."

Moyo turned to Aisha, a worried look on his face. She didn't know if he was faking it, or if he realized that if the king saw her for who she was, everything would fall through. The king could know everything, including his involvement. Torture always worked. It just took time.

"I—I need a home, sire," said Aisha pitifully. "I don't have anywhere to go. My pride was attacked and they—they took over it, and Mother did her best to protect me from them, I know she did. But I don't have a home, sire, and I've been looking for so long, and I just wanted . . . wanted to . . ."

There were flaws in her act, Moyo could see that immediately. She hesitated too long, she didn't sound quite like someone who regretted their losses _so much_. In short, it seemed like she wasn't quite acting the part correctly. But these rogues were supposed to be the best, Moyo reminded himself. They were supposed to be the ones that could do anything.

The thoughts didn't take away his worries.

"Why here?" asked the king.

"Sire, I just need a home."

"Why not another pride?"

"I've tried, sire. But they don't want me. They call me a rogue, and they—they don't want me."

"Then why should we?"

"But sire, please, I'm not any trouble, really, I'm not. I just want a home, and I can do my share of hunting and nursing and cubsitting—really sire, I can help," said Aisha earnestly.

The king was silent as he stared at her. He finally said, "You may stay here tonight."

"Oh, thank you, sire! You won't regret—"

"I'll think on it tonight. You will know whether or not you can stay in the morning. Moyo, if you would be so kind as to show her a place to sleep . . ."

"Yes, Father." Moyo turned to Aisha. "Follow me."

Moyo led Aisha over to where his sister was sleeping. Aisha felt slightly disgusted as she looked at the retarded lioness, Chuma's eyes lacking intelligence.

"This is Chuma," said Moyo. "My sister." Moyo draped a foreleg around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze, and received a shy kiss in return. "If you don't mind sleeping with her tonight . . ."

"Is she going to kill me in my sleep?"

"Chuma wouldn't hurt anyone," said Moyo, taking Aisha's statement the wrong way.

"Then I'm fine," said Aisha, lying down.

"Aisha, my sister is still a lioness, no matter what you might think—"

"_Easy_. I'm not trying to say anything," said Aisha. "It was meant to be funny. At least I thought it was."

"Sorry," said Moyo. "I just thought . . ."

"That I was making some kind of slur?"

"Yeah. Look, if you could just keep her company tonight, until I come back, that'd be great."

"And where are _you_ going, prince?"

"I think I've found someone who knows where the Shadow is. I need to check it out, don't I?"

"If that's normal."

"I'm in charge of hunting him down," said Moyo, as if to explain himself.

"Then don't let me stop you."

"Thank you," said Moyo. He began to head off toward his father to tell him where he'd be going.

Aisha turned back to Chuma, who was staring at her with her vacant stare. Chuma's paw hesitatingly crept forward, then leapt forward to tap one of Aisha's forepaws before retreating quickly, Chuma giggling, though Aisha couldn't make out whether it was humor or nervousness. Aisha sighed. She might as well start making herself trusted here.

oOo

Moyo crept slowly through the grass under the moonless night sky. He suddenly found himself tackled to the ground. He couldn't see his attacker in the dark. They hissed, "One of these days, making all that noise is going to kill you." The attacker got off. "You'd better hope I'm there to save your sorry behind."

Moyo looked up at the Shadow indignantly. "I thought I _was_ quiet."

"It's better," admitted the Shadow. He turned around and began to walk away, Moyo following him. "Care for a midnight snack?"

"What?"

"I do have to eat you know. Otherwise I might just waste away to being a—shadow." The Shadow chuckled at his little joke. "I just can't afford to hunt during the day, you know that. Too many animals that could see me."

"You won't have to keep up this act much longer," said Moyo, as way of apology. He watched as the Shadow suddenly stopped over a dark lump on the ground, then reached down toward it with his jaws. He flung his head backward, swallowing meat from the carcass on the ground. "What is it?" Moyo asked.

"Zebra."

"Well, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your meal—"

"I know it's your favorite, sire," said the Shadow, turning back around to Moyo with a smile that was barely visible in the dark night.

"Maybe a little," said Moyo with a grin. He walked around to the other side of the carcass. The two ate for a while in silence before Moyo spoke again. "You know, I'm supposed to hunt you down," said Moyo.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So the king's coming after me?"

"Well, _I_ am at least."

"Oh, no. Whatever will I do?" The Shadow took another bite and swallowed. "So, what are you going to do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Moyo. He swiped at the Shadow's throat, slowly and without claws, missing by a calculated span. "Swipe. You're dead."

"Daddy doesn't have any idea about us?" asked the Shadow.

"No. It's impossible to hunt you down. At least, that's what he thinks I think."

"I'm more worried about the rogues finding out than him. I don't want Kassan to know until I kill him."

Moyo didn't say anything.

"Mbulu finished the . . . I don't really know what you'd call it," said the Shadow. "Killer, I guess. He finished it today. I owe that monkey a great debt."

"Are you sure it will work?"

"It will fit. If anything, it might be a little tight for Kassan. He won't escape. Not with the knots Mbulu ties."

"That's—good," forced out Moyo.

"You still don't approve, do you?" remarked the Shadow.

"It's not that," said Moyo.

"Yes, it is. You believe killing is wrong."

"Isn't it?"

"It merely depends on the one killing and the one being killed. If it is right, then they should be killed. And Kassan, of all animals, deserves to die, and not just by my paw, I'm sure."

"If you say so."

The Shadow looked at Moyo as if checking him for illness. He finally reached up a paw to pat Moyo on the back of his maned neck. "It'll be okay. It'll all turn out alright. Trust me."


	3. Shadows

Shadows

The next three days went by uneventfully, Aisha being accepted and the rogues looking for every detail that might help them about the pride. "We want to know everything about them," said Kassan. "How they think, how they walk, what they eat, who they're related to, what they're nicknames are. We need to know where they're from, what they're worth, who they love, who they hate. Anything that can give us any idea of which hostages to take."

In short, the next three days were spent doing boring surveillance.

The most interesting thing to happen came on the fourth day. Moyo came over to Aisha, who was sitting with some of the other lionesses, talking about her life, and getting convenient insights into theirs.

"Aisha," said Moyo, "could I—talk to you?"

"Uh, sure," said Aisha, standing up to follow Moyo. He began to lead her away. "I—I've really enjoyed my time here," she said. "I'm glad I got accepted here. It seems to be such a nice place."

"We need to talk," muttered Moyo.

"Yeah, I know that Mya can be a pain, but still, she _is_ your pride sister," said Aisha, giving Moyo a pointed glare. _Don't talk until we can't be heard_.

"But—but I'm sure Mya just means it all in fun," said Moyo, catching on.

The two walked on, talking about the pride until Aisha finally said, "What?"

"It's about the Shadow," said Moyo.

"And? What about him?"

"He's working with my father," said Moyo.

"What? But that doesn't make sense. You said your father wants the Shadow dead—"

"He was lying. He's working _with_ the Shadow. And he thinks he knows about the rebellion. By any chance, he saw two lions in the kingdom; he told me to watch out for them. I think they're your two."

"But—but Mataka and Darau have been doing everything to stay hidden," said Aisha. "There's no way he could have seen them."

"He did. And he's sent the Shadow after you now. I don't know if he knows you're moving tonight—"

"Who said anything about moving tonight?" said Aisha suspiciously.

"The week is up today," said Moyo. "The hyenas never gave you an extension. I'm not stupid, Aisha."

"I never said you were. I just said you were a fool." Aisha shook her head, thinking. "But how could he have found out?"

"I don't know. But I may know where the Shadow is. If there's any disturbance in the pride, the Shadow's going to be around, I know it. But if you stop the word from ever reaching him . . ."

"Then we won't have to worry about an assassin."

"Exactly."

"And how do you know all this?" asked Aisha.

"My father's been having me track down the Shadow, remember?"

"He must have thought you were as inept as we did." Moyo's face fell. "Moyo, I'm joking. We needed to know this. But it would have helped to know a little sooner. We're in the last twenty-four hours."

"I just found out last night," said Moyo.

"Every hour counts now." Aisha sighed. "You said you know where he might be? This Shadow guy?"

"He's probably going to be around a cave in the western part of the kingdom. It's a big spire, you can't miss it."

"That's all?"

"Just that that's probably where he'll be."

"It's more than we had to go on before," said Aisha reluctantly. "Alright, I have to tell the others about this. Just—just tell the pride whatever lies you have to." Aisha ran off into the savannah.

"No problem," said Moyo quietly. He was getting better at lying all the time.

oOo

"You're joking," said Mataka.

"It's what he said," said Aisha. "That the Shadow could be taking time out of his oh-so-busy day to come and kill us if we attack the pride."

"And you're sure that the cave is the right place?" asked Kassan.

"Do you really think I'm going to be going anywhere near a cave that has a killer in it?" asked Aisha sarcastically. "No, I didn't look at the stupid cave."

"How did the king find out?" asked Janja.

"Moyo said the king saw Mataka."

"Again?" hissed Kassan, turning angrily to Mataka.

"And Darau," added Aisha.

"But—but how the hell did he ever find us?" asked Darau.

"He might have looked to see what was causing all that moaning from that threesome with me last night," said Aisha with a grin.

Mataka playfully hit Aisha on the side of the head. "Don't be obscene," he said.

"Females are meant to be obscene and not heard."

"Says you."

"Will you two shut up?" growled Kassan. "I'm trying to think."

"Kass, there's nothing to think about," said Zoma. "We just send a couple of us out to that cave, and the rest of us go and finish the job. From what it seems like, we just get our paws on the lionesses we need and the king, and none of the pride's going to move. We can do this, Kass."

"Kassan, Zoma is right," said Janja. "There is no other option. We must move tonight."

"Fine," said Kassan unhappily. "Fine. We'll do it that way. But we'll have to reconfigure everything."

"We then we'd better get started, shouldn't we?" said Zoma. "Someone go get pretty boy off watch."

"I'll do it," said Mataka.

"Great," said Kassan. "Now, as for the job, we could try this . . ."

oOo

Mataka dug his claws into the dirt slightly, flexing his toes, then brought them back in. He did it again. It was relaxing. He looked down at the pride below. They were asleep, all of them. He continued to look for the five targets they had chosen. This would be simple if all of them stayed asleep, but as soon as they woke up, no one could count on anything the lionesses would do. Animals did stupid things in hostage situations.

Mataka looked around, seeing parts three other parts of grass that were darker. Makini, Janja, and Darau. They would have to be careful. As soon as one of them moved toward the pride, the rest were committed. Right now they were picking their targets, deciding which ones were closest. Aisha had already marked hers; she had fallen "asleep" by her target.

Mataka decided that he would be taking the little lioness that was decently close to the edge of the pride. From what Aisha said, she was one of the more valued lionesses, and wasn't even a full lioness yet, just a half-cub.

Flex the claws out, slide them back in.

Mataka didn't know how long he waited before finally seeing movement. It was Janja. The cheetah was slowly sliding down the hill toward the king. Mataka began to slowly make his way toward his lioness, seeing Makini and Darau do the same. He could see Aisha's eyes open wide, noticing his movement. She stayed perfectly still, then began to slide a foreleg around her lioness's back.

Mataka carefully stepped over a lioness, and then made his way around another. He could see the others positioning themselves around their lioness. Mataka carefully walked around his lioness, positioning himself so that he was standing over her. He looked around at the others and saw Makini over his, perfectly ready. Darau was the same.

Suddenly there was a growl from where Aisha was. The growl grew much louder as Mataka turned to see Aisha's lioness realizing just what Aisha was trying to do with that foreleg that had been slipped under her neck. The growling was going to wake them all up.

"Janja, now!" yelled Mataka. He pressed himself flat against his lioness and wrapped his foreleg around her throat, the lioness jerking awake. He saw Janja lunge for the king, being too far away to have been in position when Mataka had yelled. The king was instantly awake, but not soon enough. Janja wrapped one of his forelegs around the king's neck.

And that was that.

All of them had their lions, all of them were pinned, and all of the lionesses were awake, staring, shocked, Moyo among them.

All of them except Aisha.

Mataka could see Aisha clearly on the ground, staring up at her lioness in terror. Her lioness had her pinned on the ground and was snarling down at her.

There was silence.

"Aisha," said Darau quietly. Aisha didn't say anything.

"Release my pride," said the king.

"You're not really in a position to demand anything, king," said Mataka as Janja tightened his grip on the king.

"Release them, or I will have her killed," said the king.

"You would not," said Janja.

"Do you really want to try that?"

The rogues said nothing. Darau stared desperately at Aisha, unconsciously letting the grip on his lioness slide a little. "Aisha," said Mataka, "can you move?" Aisha was silent. "Aisha!"

"No," said Aisha suddenly, as if jerking out of a stupor. "No, I don't want to try."

"Aisha," said Darau. "Aisha, be careful."

"Release my pride," said the king. "_Now_."

Darau let go of his lioness and got off her. "Mataka, don't let him hurt Aisha."

"You are getting involved, Darau," said Janja.

"How'd you feel if it was Zoma?" demanded Darau.

"But it is not Zoma. Forget feelings—"

Suddenly the lioness that Darau had had launched herself at him. Darau tumbled to the ground, other lionesses springing on top of him. Darau was finally pinned on the ground, along with someone else no one had expected.

Moyo.

"Shit," said Mataka.

"Moyo, what are you doing?" demanded the king. Moyo was silent.

"He attacked me, sire," said a lioness.

"What?" The king turned his head back to Mataka. "Release my pride now, or they will both die!"

Mataka hesitated, then said, "Do as he says."

"Are you sure, Mataka?"

"We'll see if we can't do this civilly." He lowered his foreleg from his lioness's throat as Makini released his and Janja released the king. All three of them were instantly seized.

In all fairness, the king seemed to take the sudden surprise fairly well. Instantly he was in command of the situation. "Rogues in my kingdom," he said, distaste in his voice as he stood up. "And I wouldn't be surprised if you were here for my kingdom."

"Actually, just a little chat," said Mataka. "You know, maybe over a carcass or two—"

"Silence," ordered the king. Mataka complied. "I could care less about what you are here for," said the king. "This is obviously treason, and will be treated as such. But what I will lose sleep over—and I do love my sleep—is why my son, of all animals, was with them."

"We made him come along," said Makini quickly. "It wasn't—"

"It was my choice," said Moyo. "Don't try to get me out of this."

"I will ask you again, Moyo. Why are you with these rouges?"

"I—I wanted to make you see, Father. I just wanted to make you see what _I_ thought, not just what you thought. I wanted to make you see things my way. You don't need to rule this kingdom this way."

"Moyo, you can not be expected to know how to rule a kingdom until you have experience. You must rule as I do. Laws are there for a reason, and there is nothing that you can make an exception for."

"But Father, what if the laws are wrong?"

"That is impossible," said the king firmly. "The laws are there to guide us through what we do—"

"Bullshit," interjected Mataka. "Laws nearly got Darau killed when he was three. Three!"

"Juvenile delinquents—"

"He grew up! His father ran him out of the kingdom because he didn't want competition for mating! Is that fair?"

"If that is the law, that is just," said the king zealously.

"Oh, come on—" The king nodded, and one of the lionesses around Mataka hit him in the back of the head, hard. Mataka groaned. "Ow . . ."

"Father, there need to be exceptions. Or at least changes. You can make new laws—"

"The laws of our forefathers are the laws that we must stand by," said the king.

"Is it in your laws that you can use assassins for your wishes?" asked Janja. "That is exactly what you are doing with the Shadow."

"I have no dealings with vigilante _filth_," said the king.

"Vigilante," said Mataka thoughtfully. "I've never been called that. Has a nice ring." He was hit in the back of the head again. "Ow! Easy!"

"Sheria has no need for those who would break its laws," said the king. "It is a kingdom of _justice_."

"But Father, the laws aren't justice," said Moyo. "It's what I'm trying to say. They're just there as guidelines, aren't they?"

"The laws are etched in the deepest earth of this land," said the king fiercely. "Nothing can touch them."

"But don't you need to exercise judgment?"

"The laws are all we need," said the king. "And though I sometimes wish I was not forced to, I must follow them."

"Father, you must see—"

"You are all convicted of treason. Your acts will be punished by death. You will be executed by falling from the Cliff of Death."

"The Cliff of Death? Is that really the best name you've got?" Mataka received another blow to the back of his head. "Aiheu!"

"You will be executed immediately. You are a danger to the kingdom; there will be no wait."

"Oh, good. Just so long as it's done quickly," said Mataka. "I hate it when it's long and drawn out."

oOo

Kassan and Zoma moved slowly toward the cave, each heading for a different side of the cave entrance. Each was checking all around them, making sure they did all they could to see everything. Nothing could be left to chance; they were dealing with someone they knew to be an assassin. Just do it slow and careful.

Kassan darted out of the grass to press himself against a side of the cave entrance, out of view of anyone inside, Zoma doing the same. Kassan looked over at Zoma. Kassan lifted up a paw next to his head, Zoma watching closely. Kassan swept it toward the mouth of the den, and both of them rushed in.

The cave was empty.

"There's no one here," said Zoma.

Kassan straightened up from his half-crouch. "This is the cave that the prince said. It's the only one. It has to be."

"Oh, he's going to get it. I just love royal information, don't you?" asked Zoma, turning to Kassan.

"But this doesn't make any sense," said Kassan. "The prince wanted us here. He invited us. He wouldn't just send us off like this unless—"

"Unless he knew there was something here," said Zoma, staring past Kassan. "Kass, turn around." Zoma began to back away from the den entrance.

Kassan turned to see several hyenas in the entrance of the den, all of them snarling as they advance on the two rogues. Kassan could see that the two of them were outnumbered. He watched helplessly as the hyenas slowly spread out around the den, flanking and circling him and Zoma.

"I don't suppose you're with Katili," he said quietly. The hyenas didn't answer.

"We're gonna die, we're gonna die," muttered Zoma.

"There's a way out," said Kassan as he and Zoma turned slowly, each one facing exactly the other way so that none of the hyenas could sneak up on them. "There always is."

"Yeah? And what's your idea this time, hotshot?"

"Run like hell."

"You aren't going anywhere." The voice came from the mouth of the den. Zoma was suddenly tackled to the ground as the hyenas charged. Kassan turned to look at the speaker and felt a blow on his head. He sank to the ground as if his legs had turned to water, darkness closing in quickly.

oOo

The prisoners were escorted quietly. None of the lionesses complained about the chill of the night or the sleep they lacked. The killings were finally coming to an end. It seemed they had finally caught "the Shadow." It all made sense now, how they were never found, with Moyo turning away his father's head every time there was something he didn't want his father to see. They would all be able to sleep soundly now, knowing there were no more killers in the kingdom. Sheria was a safe place once again.

Moyo trudged along in silence. He kept on looking over at his sister, who was following blindly, having no idea what was going on. No one would care for her, no one would love her as he did. He spoke to the lioness next to him. "Tama?"

Tama didn't speak.

"Tama, you've always been good to me. Please, just do me one favor—"

"You're not escaping, Moyo," she said coldly.

"I know. But my sister . . . Chuma needs someone. She needs someone to look after her, and care for her—"

"Are you joking?" said Tama. Moyo could see the same disgust on her face that was there when any of the pride talked about Chuma. "I _despise_ her, even more than I hate you now. There's no way that I'm going to be looking after that freak. We're going to make sure what should have happened a long time ago happens _now_: that she dies. No one wants her around, Moyo, no more than any of us want you. So you can shut your mouth, Shadow, and get on with your death."

"Tama, I'm not the Shadow."

"You're a killer, Moyo. And you're going to die." There was cold finality in her voice.

Moyo turned away. There wouldn't be a tomorrow for him, he knew that. There wouldn't be that many tomorrows for Chuma, either. She would starve to death; he knew they wouldn't feed her. Moyo had always been her protector and guardian; he had gotten her everything she needed. He realized, now more than ever, that he was the only one in the pride that loved his retarded sister. He prayed to the gods that she wouldn't understand what was happening as he was forced off the ledge, as he fell screaming to his death.

He could hear Mataka speak to Makini a little farther ahead. "Well, kid, it's been fun."

"Yeah," said Makini. "Yeah, it has."

"You should've never left home, you know that?"

"And what about you? You left because you were bored."

"I couldn't stay. I can't stay. I told you that. . . . I told Amana that."

"What'll she do when you're not back in time?" asked Makini.

"I don't know. Wait, probably. I don't know how long. Maybe a month, maybe a year . . . She's been a better mate than I could have ever asked for."

"Does Kumbukizi know about you two?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she does. Came up to me when we came back from Muutoshonga. Just came right up and asked, 'Are you my father?' Just like that. And . . . and of course, I said yeah. Yeah, I was. And she just stared at me. You ever get that feeling that you're having judgment passed on you?"

"Yeah. All the time from Nasiha."

"Yeah, but this was bigger than just getting judged for your training. I mean this was—it was like she was deciding, then and there, if everything I had done about her was right or not."

"What did she say?"

"She just said, 'I thought so.' Nothing special at all. And no special treatment after that either. She just treated me . . . I guess just like she treated Amana. Just as a parent. She values my opinion, I know that. And I think she's forgiven me for leaving. I think she knows I tried to find her."

"Amana probably told her."

"Probably."

"She'll miss you, Mataka."

"Yeah. And you barely got to know your father."

"But Kassan . . . Dad was good to me. It just took some time to realize what he'd left behind. That's all."

"I know this has to hurt you."

"Yeah, but it's only a few seconds of screaming and falling, right? Then everything will be over. Hell can't be that bad."

"Let's hope so," said Mataka quietly.

"It won't be . . ." Makini's voice trailed off as he heard Darau speaking softly. Mataka chuckled as he heard the words.

_Oh, Father, we'll all go to Hell_

_So soon we will all be in Hell_

_We'll die for our brothers_

_And sisters as well_

_And for this we'll all go to Hell_.

It was the battle hymn of the Askari. Every warrior in the group had lived up to those words. Mataka joined in with Darau.

_Oh, Mama, we're all going to die_

_So soon we are all going to die_

_You know that I love you_

_So please do not cry;_

_You know that so soon we'll all die_.

All of the rogues began to quietly sing, the singing growing louder. The lionesses looked around at each other, unsure what to do.

_Oh, good gods, we'll meet you so soon_

_We'll see all our fam'ly so soon_

_And then we will see the_

_Dark side of the moon_

_We'll all be in that Hell so soon_.

_My brothers, we're all going to die_

_My sisters, in glory we die_

_So raise your claws high for_

_Tomorrow we die_

_And then from the ashes we'll rise!_

"And then from the ashes we'll rise," murmured Makini quietly. He turned to Mataka. "We're all going to die, aren't we?"

"Yes," said Mataka. "We're all going to die. And we'll die dead."

"It's an okay song, though."

"Kind of short."

"Yeah."

"But none of the Askari have come back to life, you know. Nobody does."

"I'm suddenly wishing I'd done a lot more things."

"Like what?"

"Spent more time with Dad . . . with you . . . said goodbye to Nasiha properly . . . gotten laid . . ."

Mataka looked at Makini in disbelief, then shook his head, chuckling. "You poor bastard."

Makini protested, "I never got a chance—"

"Liar." Mataka laughed quietly a little bit more, then fell silent. He looked over at Makini and said, "You did good, kid. Really. You did good."

"Thanks," said Makini. "That means a lot."

A few moments later they were stopped near the edge of a steep cliff. From their high vantage point, they could see the sun peering over the top of the ground to watch the execution. "Dying at sunrise," said Darau quietly. "If that doesn't go against every symbolism I know." He turned to Aisha. "I—I wouldn't have minded being your mate, Aisha. I wanted it."

Aisha nuzzled Darau gently. "I know." She gave him a kiss. "Who knows, maybe we will end up in Heaven. Maybe there will be forgiveness for everything."

"I love you," said Darau.

"I love you, too."

Janja was silent.

The rogues were all herded to the edge of the cliff. They all turned to face the pride. The king said, "You know the crime for which you are here. Your punishment is death. You are all now given the opportunity to enact this punishment yourself."

None of the rogues moved.

"Very well," said the king. "Turn around."

The rogues did so.

"Force them off."

Makini found that his breathing had become so much more rushed. He felt tears come to his eyes. He wasn't ready to die. He drew a sharp intake of breath as he felt a set of claws dig themselves into his rear. He involuntarily jolted forward. The claws were removed hand were sunk in again, with the same result.

"Janja!"

The pride and the rogues both craned their head to see a cheetah standing behind them. A few seconds later, five lionesses were dead.

"Moyo, come on!" yelled Makini. He knocked down another lioness and sunk his teeth into her gut. Moyo stood alone at the edge of the cliff, watching Makini kill the lioness that had been prodding him. He suddenly found his legs and began to rush toward the pride, the rogues clearing a path for themselves through the stunned lionesses.

"Chuma!" yelled Moyo. His sister began to run toward Moyo, following him as he and the rest of the rogues broke free of the pride. All of the rogues ran as fast and far as they could, the lionesses taking little or no notice of them, now being distracted by the screaming coming from their pride sisters as they lied on the ground in agony.

"Come on, prince," said Zoma, appearing next to Moyo. "Move." Moyo ran harder.

When the rogues finally felt that they were safe enough, they stopped. "What happened?" asked Moyo, breathing heavily. "It happened too fast . . ."

"Zoma just yelled, and we just took that opportunity to escape," said Mataka. "Simple. It worked, didn't it?" He sank to the ground, bleeding from a deep gash in his right shoulder.

"They were unbalanced by Zoma's yell," said Janja. "Without it, we would have all died if we had tried to fight."

"And you all just did the same thing at once, no communicating or thinking?"

"Yeah," said Aisha. "It's not like we always have a plan or something."

"We need to get out of here," said Makini. "They'll be hunting us down by sunset. We have to leave."

"Guys, Kass is in trouble," said Zoma.

"Well then why didn't you say something?" asked Darau. "Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" asked Mataka, Darau, and Aisha simultaneously.

"We were together checking out that cave, and then we were ambushed, and I woke up in that cave alone. That's all I know."

"How many animals?" asked Mataka.

"Uh, twenty, maybe thirty hyenas. There's another animal, too, I think. I just heard this voice and then they tackled me."

"Wonderful," said Mataka. "We nearly die, and then we have to save his sorry ass."

"Do you know if he's alive?" asked Makini worriedly.

"No. But we need to find him."

"Alright, Janja, you and Zoma head over there," said Mataka, pointing in a direction. "Makini and I will take over there. Darau, you and Aisha just get the royals out of here. We'll check back at that cave Zoma was looking at in an hour, and we'll start again from there if we have to. But if this goes on longer than a day, we're all gone."

"I can work with that," said Darau, Zoma and Janja nodding assent.

"But this is my father!" burst out Makini. "We can't just leave him!"

Mataka fixed Makini with an icy glare. "Then we'd better start looking, hadn't we?" he asked, pushing himself off the ground. He began heading away, Makini hurriedly following him. Zoma and Janja headed off in their direction.

Darau and Aisha looked down at Moyo and Chuma, both of the royals still on the ground, resting. "Whenever you're ready, sires."

oOo

Kassan's eyes opened slowly, seeing a stone ceiling. Light flickered from flames, but he couldn't see what was burning. He groaned and tried to move, but found his legs wouldn't. He was on his back, his forelegs stretched out above his head, his hind legs being pulled toward his tail. A black face appeared above him. His face.

"Hello, Kass."

Kassan closed his eyes with a more pronounced groan. "Yanu."

"So you _do_ remember me. How touching."

"How could I forget?" asked Kassan, opening his eyes. "You were left on that battlefield with me. We were so close—"

"You're not going to flatter me, Kassan. You took everything from me. You took my mate. You took my son. You drove me from my home. You promised they would be _safe_."

"Brother—"

"Not anymore, Kassan. Not after what you've put me through."

Kassan looked up at his twin. "It was a way to survive, Yanu. You saw what the Askari could do. If we could do that, too—"

"They _murdered_," hissed Yanu. "They killed _everyone_."

"Not everyone—"

"Mother was dead, Father was dead, and to me, at least, that was everyone. You don't understand what family is, Kass. You never did. You left me; you didn't want any more to do with someone who didn't follow _your_ dream, _your_ vision."

"Yanu, you wanted something you could never have—"

"But I got it, didn't I? I got a family. I got Ashki, and I got her parents, too. And you don't know what that was like, Kass. I had _parents_. They _loved_ me, just like Mother and Father loved us, all until the day they died. And I had Makini, too, didn't I? A family, Kass. What you said the world would never give me, I got. And then you murdered her—"

"I had to, Yanu. That king would have killed me—"

"_Then you should have died!_" yelled the Shadow furiously. "You told me to _leave_, Kass! _Leave_, and she'd be _safe!_ That they were after _me!_"

"I said that you made it all too easy for them to find her. How many black leopards—"

"There will be one less in the world after tonight," hissed Yanu. He leaned close to his brother's face. "You lied to me, Kass. You sent me away. You killed Ashki in that stampede. You left Makini to starve, parentless. You took away everything I earned. _Earned_, Kass. And now it's your turn."

"So killing me will take away everything? Yanu, I thought you thought things through better than that."

"You're going to die, Kassan. Here. Tonight. And so will your son. I haven't tracked down your mate, but rest assured, when I do, I will make her life nothing short of a hell."

"Yanu, it wasn't anything personal. It was just a job—"

"You're right, Kass. It's just a job. My job."

Kassan sighed as he relaxed. It didn't look like he was going anywhere soon. "I don't suppose a heartfelt apology would make things any better?"

Yanu let out a cold, chilly laugh. "Heartfelt? From you? Please, Kass, don't take me for a fool."

Kassan stared up at his twin, then experimentally tried to move a foreleg. He felt something dig into his whole leg as he did so. "So this is how you'll kill me? Leave me here to starve?"

"Oh, no, Kassan. I've been thinking about it for quite a long time. And I'm sure that you'd find a way out if I let you die that way. No, you're going to die a slow, agonizing death. You're going to have your legs torn off."

"Ah. Interesting," said Kassan, his voice normal. "And how is this going to happen?"

"Oh, I think I've—thought it through," said the Shadow with a smile. He walked away from Kassan and said loudly, "Release the stoppers." Kassan felt nothing, but heard a quiet, hissing sound. He didn't see the Shadow as he next spoke, but instead heard the Shadow's voice circling slowly around him with his owner.

"Now you see, Kassan, this took quite a while to conceive. Nearly five months. It's been tested on me—or at least the vines have been. There's a monkey in this kingdom that's quite good with knots. Mbulu. He's been aiding the hyenas. I believe you saw him at the hyena pit?"

"The one with the branch of fire."

"Yes. Well, these vines are his own invention. Carefully wrapped with specially sharpened rocks. They'll take a massive amount of strain, and still not break. I doubt that they could suspend an elephant like he said they could, but I wouldn't be surprised. He has been an invaluable help to me. I owe him far more than I can give in return. For you see, he also helped design this—contraption.

"Each one of your legs are completely entwined in a vine, and the vines, in turn, are attached to a rather heavy rock each. Despite what you think, you are not on the ground. You are on a small spire, more of a slab or stone two or three feet above the ground, and it is here that you'll die. Each of the vines' rocks rests on a separate bed of sand, contained in a stone hole. Another thing that Mbulu has helped me with. I couldn't have carried a grain of sand, but he has managed to fill four containers, containers which he built himself.

"But the containers . . . no one can access the containers now. The hyenas which have been so kind in helping me in exchange for my aid in their—revolution—they've pulled the stoppers on the containers. The sand is slowly leaking out, and the rocks are falling. And with the rocks, the vines are falling. And pulling on your legs, which you no doubt have begun to feel. And you won't escape these, Kassan.

"But I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes. Containers. You see, though you are only a few feet off the floor, there's more to this cave. There is an entire place below this one. And it's so easily accessible, too. Just walk through the back of the cave, and you'll find yourself below. And if you look up, you can see the roof of the first section of the cave. There are holes in the ceiling of the lower part, Kassan. And your vines trail down these holes.

"But you can't get to the containers anymore. Not if the passageway is blocked. And I've rolled a boulder, all the way here, just for that purpose. After those hyenas exit—here they are now—I will be sealing the passage to the containers myself. You won't be able to get to the containers, Kassan. The sand will keep falling out. The rocks will keep going down. And your legs will slowly be torn from your body."

Kassan let out a groan. Yes, he could feel the pressure on his shoulders. The hind legs had no joints like the shoulders though. Or did they? Could they be torn from his body? He could feel the vine with its specially sharpened stones pressing against his legs like needles. They hadn't punctured anything yet.

Kassan heard the sound of stone on stone, and then heard a smash. "No one will access the containers," said the Shadow. "No one will stop this. And no one will save you, Kassan. Because I'm not going to cut those vines. And I'm not going to let anyone else, either. But if it's any comfort, your son should be here soon, looking for Daddy." Yanu chuckled unpleasantly. "And to think, I won't even know his name as I slash through his throat right before your eyes."

"It's Makini," said Kassan with a smile.

"What?" asked Yanu, his smile disappearing instantly from his face.

"It's Makini," said Kassan. He yelled out in pain as Yanu rammed a paw hard into his gut and he recoiled, the vines tearing into his legs.

"Don't you dare mock me like this," hissed the Shadow.

"I'm not lying," groaned Kassan.

"You named you son just to spite me?"

"Who said he was my son?"

"You don't . . ."

"Yes," said Kassan. "And he's here. And he's going to die, too. Because if you knew that I would be there, in that cave, this night . . . there's no way he's going to escape that trap you and the king have made for the others."

"The king wants me dead," said Yanu. "I only brought all of you here for the prince."

Kassan laid his head back so that he looked at the ceiling, letting out a sigh. "Of course. And none of us expected the prince to be able to be involved in that. He lied to us all."

"None of that matters now," said Yanu. "You're going to die, Kassan. And Makini is going to know exactly what you are." He walked toward the exit of that room of the cave.

"You know, Yanu," said Kassan, "I think I would have been a decent father. Just for the record."

Yanu stopped and looked back at his twin. He shook his head. "No, Kass. You're missing a heart."

oOo

"We'll check in there," said Makini, pointing to a rock face. Mataka could just make out the opening.

"We're almost due back," said Mataka. "We don't have—" He fell abruptly silent at Makini's glare. "Or we could—yeah, let's just check in there." He began to follow Makini toward the entrance. The two of them slowly approached it, staying low in the grass. As they entered it, a scent was easily recognized.

"Dogs of some kind," said Makini quietly.

"Could be hyenas," said Mataka.

"It's almost fresh."

Mataka looked around the place they were in. "Alright," he said. "Let's do this slow and careful."

The two of them began to head deeper into the cave, the light becoming worse and worse as they progressed. They finally came to a fork. The cave went deeper than they thought, possibly all the way through the rock face they were in. Mataka gestured toward one way for Makini, and went the other way himself.

Makini slowly made his way through the passageway, the scent of hyenas becoming fainter. He looked everywhere for activity, the increasing darkness being able to shroud more and more. He stepped into a room. There was nothing there. It was a dead end.

Then, suddenly, he heard Kassan's voice echo through the dark room. "On a hill, during a sunset. I told you just how much I loved you then."

"Dad?"

"You said that you loved me, too."

"Dad, where are you?" Makini began to turn around, looking for Kassan.

"And then I died, didn't I? You have no idea how much it hurt to watch you and your mother weep over that wildebeest, both of you knowing I was gone."

"This isn't funny, Dad. We need to get out of—"

"And then your mother died while hunting. Your uncle started a stampede. He murdered your mother."

_I don't have an uncle_.

"I thought you were dead. I thought you had no one. I don't know how you survived. But I just want you to know I still love you. I still want my son."

"That's great, Dad, but we need to get out of here—"

Makini felt something suddenly wrap around his body and force him to the ground. He roared, lashing out and hitting nothing. He felt something wet on his neck. "My son," he heard in his ear. "My son, my son, my son."

"Dad?"

"Oh, Makini, I love you so much. And you've grown up so big and strong. I'm proud of you, son."

"Dad, you're not making any sense. Now's not the time—"

"Makini, I'm your father. Not him."

"What?"

"It's me. Yanu."

Makini fell silent. "Mom used to call you that," he said quietly.

"And you called me Daddy. I thought you were dead, Makini."

"I don't understand. I can't see you right."

"It's all this darkness. Please, just follow me. We need to talk, Makini. About a lot of things. I need to show you something."

"Alright, Dad," said Makini uncertainly. He got up and began to start toward where he remembered the entrance to the room was.

oOo

Mataka progressed slowly through the cave. As it was for Makini, it was getting darker for him, too. The scent of hyenas was becoming weaker, as if the last place they had been was at the entrance. The only way that would have made any sense at all was if they had left.

_But if they're gone_, thought Mataka, _who's still here?_

Claws came out unconsciously as he saw a flicker of light across the wall. He stopped dead. It happened again, and again, in a completely unnatural pattern. _Fire_, Mataka realized after watching it for a few moments. His immediate thought was an ambush. But there was no way for the fire to spread, at least not to him; stone didn't burn.

He crept farther, the light becoming brighter, then becoming easily seen on a wall as he made a slight turn. He heard heavy moaning. He edged his head around the corner to see a large stone bowl filled with some kind of burning substance. He also saw something on a stone slab that was writhing on the table, yet it seemed to be restrained. He paused for a second, then, seeing no danger, rushed over to the slab.

"Kass," he breathed.

"Get these off," begged Kassan. "Get them off now." He let out a prolonged groan. Mataka looked at his legs and saw blood on them, unsure as to how it got there. He tried to paw the vines off and immediately withdrew his paw with a sudden intake of air.

"It bit me," he said.

"Just cut them," pleaded Kassan. "Just cut them. Please—ah!"

Mataka began to work through one of the vines on Kassan's forelegs. He had to be careful; too much pressure and Kassan's leg would start bleeding more fiercely; too little and his claws would barely scratch the surface of the vine. The vine was thick and the work was slow.

"You know, I have been through hell last night and today, and then I find you just lying here—"

"Just get them off," said Kassan, desperation in his voice.

"I'm working on them," said Mataka. Luckily the vines were taut, that fact aiding in the job. After about a minute, one vine was cut through. Mataka began unraveling it from Kassan's leg, the vine entwined all the way around Kassan's leg.

"No—no, get the others—get the others first," said Kassan.

"You mind telling me what the hell's going on?"

"Not right now—not right now—just get them off," pleaded Kassan. "Oh, gods, it hurts!"

Mataka set to work on the other foreleg in silence, then the two hind legs. Kassan breathed in relief as he felt the last vine cut. Mataka began to take the vines off the hind legs, Kassan's breath being drawn in sharply in pain.

"Ouch! These things are nasty," said Mataka as he felt the rocks in the vine scratch his paw. "Who wanted to do this to you?"

"The Shadow. He wanted me dead—ahh, that hurts."

"That's off now."

"He wanted to kill me for a job . . . just a job . . ."

"We've got a lot of animals like that."

"The revolution?"

"Didn't work. Other vine's off. Lift up that foreleg."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the damned king found us out. Or maybe it was dumb luck. I don't know. All I know is Aisha's part didn't work, and Darau surrendered, and then it was all over." Another vine dropped to the ground.

"We have to finish the job—"

"We have to get the hell out of here, that's what we have to do. The king's looking all over the kingdom for us; he thinks we're the Shadow. We have to get you out of here now." The last vine dropped.

"Makini—"

"He's fine, I'm sure. Now we need to get out of here. Can you walk?"

Kassan rolled off of the slab, falling to the ground. He pushed himself up. "Yes," he said. "It hurts a little—"

"A little? Aiheu . . ."

"We just have to get out of here," said Kassan. He began to walk toward the exit with a slight limp. "I want to find Makini."

oOo

"I died with her in that stampede," said Yanu. "When I found out that Kassan was the one who did it . . . it was almost too much."

"But I don't understand," said Makini quietly. He looked across the savannah he was in. "That means he was lying to me this whole time."

"Makini, I am your father," said Yanu. "Me, not him."

Makini looked back at Yanu. Yes, he did indeed look like his father. Exactly like his father. The honest smile, the tender paws, the beautiful black pelt. The only thing that Makini felt didn't belong was the loss in his eyes, the loss of his mate and cub that never went away. The years that he had been looking for revenge wouldn't leave.

"I don't want to believe you," said Makini quietly. "I really don't want to think he was lying to me all this time. I thought there was good in him . . ."

"Whatever good there was in my brother's heart was left on that battlefield with our parents. He does nothing without calculating what good it will do him. But he'll never trouble us again."

"I didn't want to believe it."

"He lied to you, Makini, just like he lied to me. He wanted to use you. Maybe just as someone to have with him, but he used you. I guarantee it."

"Was Mom a whore?"

"What?" snarled Yanu. "Don't you ever call your mother that!"

"He said she was."

"And that is a _lie!_ Your mother was marked for death because she turned down an offer for sex! She was married to _me!_ We both cherished that marriage, and more than you know. We loved each other, Makini, just as much as we loved you."

"It's just—he told me so many things . . . It sounded so much like the truth."

"I doubt my brother knows what truth is anymore. All he knows is lies. And I've almost become like him. All because I thought you were gone." Yanu caressed his son's face with a paw. "I missed you, Makini."

"I missed you, too, Dad." He wrapped a paw around his father's neck and pulled him close.

Yanu gripped his son tightly, then pulled away. "I . . . I don't really know where to go from here."

"You can come back home with me. We can stay there."

"But—but they think I'm dead—"

"Dad, they'll forgive you. I promise. . . . You're not lying to me, right?"

Yanu smiled. "No. I'm your father now. I don't need to hide anymore." He breathed in a deep breath, smiling. "I don't have to be a shadow." He turned back to Makini, a broad smile on his face. "Everything can be normal agai—"

Yanu's face was frozen in a smile as the jaws closed around his neck and shook his throat fiercely, breaking it. Makini watched in horror as his father fell to the ground, the first traces of shock and pain appearing on his face. "Dad!" yelled Makini.

Kassan spit on his brother and ran away from his murder as quickly as he could. Makini ran after him, catching up quickly and tackling him to the ground. "You son of a bitch!" he yelled as he tackled Kassan to the ground. Kassan quickly rolled over and slashed Makini across the face. Makini roared out in pain as he stumbled off Kassan. Kassan immediately got up and hit Makini sharply across the muzzle, knocking him to the ground. Kassan quickly slammed a paw into Makini's neck, knocking him out as he nearly broke his neck, missing killing him by luck.

"Kass, what the hell are you doing?" yelled a voice. Kassan turned to see Mataka coming toward him. "That's Makini!"

"He tried to kill me, Mataka."

"Why would he do that?" asked Mataka. "You're his father."

Kassan was silent. He stared at Mataka, weighing his words. "Mataka, I'm in bad shape right now. My legs hurt like hell, and it's hard enough to run as it is. Walking's just about the best I can do."

"I know that. Now what were you doing to Makini?" Mataka looked down at Makini. "Is he even alive?" Mataka asked furiously.

"He's alive. I just knocked him out. I wanted to kill him."

"He's your son—" began Mataka incredulously.

"No, Mataka, he isn't. He's not my son. He's never been my son. I just killed his father tonight. And Makini knows it."

"You did _what?_" hissed Mataka.

"Makini's father is dead. I killed him."

"I'm hoping that there's a lot of metaphorical stuff I'm missing."

"I've never been his father, Mataka. I tried to tell you. You wouldn't listen."

"Kass, you have been _lying_ to us all this time."

"You wouldn't let me explain. I was going to try to be a good father, Mataka. It's the least I could do for my brother—"

"Your _brother?_ You killed you own brother, and you just took away any chance your nephew had at being normal?"

"He'll never be normal, Mataka."

"Not anymore!" yelled Mataka.

"Please, just try to explain it to him when he wakes up. Just tell him that I . . . I wanted to be a good father."

Mataka stared at Kassan, unable to comprehend exactly what was going on. Too many things were being thrown at him. "I think you're lying, Kass."

"I'm telling you the truth. I'm not his father."

"Not that. You never wanted to be a good father. You wanted what was best for you. You always have."

"Mataka, just because I enjoy sex—"

"It's not that, Kass!" exploded Mataka. "It's _you!_ Everything about you! You've hurt him more than I can imagine, and all in one day! I'm pissed, Kass, and I am sure as _hell_ not going to tell him that you're sorry. I thought you'd changed, Kass, but all you've done is slap me in the face."

"Mataka, it's not like—"

"Yes, it is like that. Pick a direction and start running, Kass. Because that is _exactly_ what I'm going to tell Makini when he comes to."

"You can't mean that," said Kassan in disbelief.

"You wrecked his life," said Mataka. "And probably a lot more than I realize right now. Pick a direction and run, not walk, Kass. Before I beat Makini to it and beat the shit out of you right now."

"He's my nephew, Mataka. I wanted to help—"

"I doubt it, Kass. You're not going to hurt another one of my friends. Not like Loma. Not like Nasiha. Not like me."

"Don't do this to me, Mataka. I'm in bad shape, I don't need this—"

"Start running, Kass. Pick a direction, and start running."

Kassan took one last look at Makini, then began to limp away as fast as he could. Mataka looked down at Makini's still form and sighed. He sank down next to him, the weariness of all of the activity of last night and that morning gnawing at him, and all of it for another job gone wrong.

oOo

**A/N: And that's the end of that. Sorry, I know this isn't the best I could have done. Just so those of you who didn't know's information, this is a repost. It needs to be rewritten. I may get around to it sometime. All in all, it's one of my more disappointing stories, but I hope you enjoyed it.**


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